


BRIEF ENCOUNTER

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fidelity and decorum, Sanctity of marriage, When laugh lines disappear, loss and mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: "I haven't seen you smile, let alone laugh in three years, Kathryn. Neither has your husband been inclined to do so. Your laugh lines have disappeared! From both of you! I cannot order you to snap out of it. But teaching in a completely different environment might help in reducing the pain…"-  Admiral Owen ParisSo Kathryn is sent to teach a semester on another planet. There she meets a friendly stranger...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based on the 1945 film, "Brief Encounter" directed by David Lean, from the play "Still Life" by Noel Coward. The principal actors were Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard. 
> 
> When I watched the film for the first time, some years ago, I figured I could create a story for Janeway and Chakotay, in much the same way I wrote "Random Harvest" for Paris and Torres. I watched it again [a few times!] some months ago and felt even stronger in creating a vehicle for J/C using some of the major elements of the film. 
> 
> What are those elements in the original film? A chance meeting between a housewife and a medical doctor at a railway station, and they fall in love. Both characters are married with children, and the story is told from the woman's viewpoint as she struggles with the moral issues around being a married woman in an affair with a married man. As indicated, my work is "loosely" based, but do contain elements of the film. Anything more will contain spoilers. 
> 
> Throughout the film Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 is played. For my story I played Mozart's Oboe Concerto in C, and it has become my "ear worm" while I was writing my version of "Brief Encounter".
> 
> I listened to a number of classical pieces; and there are several references in the story of musical interludes, arias and operas which will be given in full at the end of the story. 
> 
> For now, only Chapter 1: Prologue. 
> 
> ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Mary Star for her editing. I owe her much!   
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters Janeway and Chakotay. The original characters are my own.

* * *

**Mars - Subterranean Caves**

* * *

 

Mars was searing and dusty and red.

Sweat trickled down his neck into his back where he couldn’t scratch, making him hot and irritable; his shirt clung to his damp skin. Any other weekend but this one and he'd have been more than happy to suffer the heat on this planet. Reports had to be presented on Tuesday, was what Mallory said, what everyone said. He couldn't escape four pairs of accusing eyes. He'd accompanied Riordan and Rebecca on their excursions in their first school years. It was only fair he do the same for Mallory. 

It was his weekend off from duties at Starfleet and he'd been looking forward to spending it with Tom, Harry, Ayala and Magnus Rollins and his son James, white water rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

Then Mallory, three days ago…   

 You're telling me only _now_?" he asked, a little exasperated, no matter that Riordan, always a stickler for time and prudence, had done the same thing when he was six years old. Kids…always informing parents of their projects a day before the due date.

"I told Mommy."

As if that made everything okay.

"Mommy never told me, honey."

Then the tears that filled dark eyes. That was always his undoing. Rebecca and Mallory. They knew how to push his buttons. He saw his seat on the raft go up in smoke, imagined Rollins waving goodbye and Tom telling him you can never win against women.

"Fine. This weekend it is," he assured Mallory.

Now they stood at the entrance of the big cavern leading to the great spelunks. They wore protective gear, helmets and boots, Mallory in a pair Tom Paris had gifted her. She called it her favourite boots ever. But Mallory, like Rebecca, was her mother's child, with all the idiosyncrasies Kathryn displayed and which sometimes, especially on Voyager, had maddened him so.

Mallory pursed her lips in a stubborn imitation of her mother. All she had to do was stand hands on her hips and she'd be a mini version of Kathryn Janeway. He felt winded just looking at her. He and Riordan, their eldest, were outnumbered three to two and he felt it keenly. Why didn't he search her bag before they left Indiana? They often got messages from her teacher that Mallory had brought a toy to school. It was forbidden; all parents knew that although Ms Hemming had given Kathryn a look that seemed to imply the Janeways were beyond reproof. "However, Admiral Janeway, young Mallory always finishes her work first," Ms Hemming had added, as if to soften the blow of cautioning Starfleet's admirals.

Chakotay sighed as he regarded his youngest daughter, then shook his head. Mallory held a pterodactyl bone in one hand and in the other a raptor tooth. Why didn't he have the same issues with Riordan and Rebecca? he wondered. They had never carried dinosaur bones everywhere with them, although they knew most everything there was to know for kids of seven and under. It was his own fault, he knew. He'd taken Mallory on a dig at the Fossil Excavation Site in sub-Saharan Africa. She had become instantly intrigued by anything older than a thousand years.

Why couldn't Mallory just stick the offending bones in her backpack? She had stood her ground, her face mutinous. If Kathryn ever complained that Mallory didn't resemble her, that was all but cancelled out by the old adage, "but she takes after me!"

No dinosaurs or other ancient Earth creatures dwelled on Mars, but Mallory remained adamant.

"I have to take them with me, Papa. I might find other ancient bones in the caves."

"Mallory, honey, you need your hands free, okay? What if you stumble, then you're unable to break your fall -"

"I can put them in my pouch once we start climbing. Ms Hemming said we can take something along."

"And did Ms Hemming say anything about keeping your hands free while you are going to climb inside the caves? Did she, honey?"

Mallory's lips curved into a smile. Another sharp jab to his chest as he pictured Kathryn wheedling promises out of him.

"Don't worry, Papa! I'm going to be tethered to you, and I'm wearing a helmet so I don't have to worry at all!"

"At all?"

"At all. And Papa, Mommy told me you can carry me on your back if I happen to scrape my knee. Which won't happen, because Rio and Becks didn't have their knees scraped and Rio knows everything 'bout dinosaurs!"

He fell in love with his little girl all over again. Opening his arms Chakotay knelt and Mallory rushed into them.

"I love you, Papa."

"Love you too, honey."

Her body felt soft yet wiry, her hair fanning from under her helmet over his hand. For a moment, blinded by tears that filled his eyes, he wanted to hug his little girl forever. More than Riordan, their first-born,  and Rebecca, Mallory resembled him, even though she took after Kathryn, mostly. But he loved her like he loved Riordan and Rebecca who had been as effusive in their emotions when they were the same age. It didn't matter now that he couldn't go white water rafting. Far more important things had to be done first.

Finally, he held Mallory away from him and gazed into her eyes. 

"Ready?" 

"Oh, yes!" 

A father and daughter excursion. They had to spend a weekend together after which the student had to submit a report and oral presentation about the terrain as well as the values of connecting with a parent or caregiver. Some kids had a grandfather or favourite uncle or older brother accompany them. Chakotay remembered fondly accompanying Owen Paris junior when Tom had been on an extended mission in deep space and Owen senior complained about his bones being too brittle for spelunking. Young Owen had insisted later that his father recreate their climb in the holosuites at Headquarters. 

Mallory kept up briskly beside him, chattering non-stop. And did he know pterodactyls this and stegosaurs that and understanding geometric progressions; didn't he think that a wolf cannot swallow a grandma whole and how pigs cannot talk and build houses? He half listened to her, agreeing to everything absently until they reached the great cave where Kathryn and Mark Johnson had once climbed and which had become quite popular for climbers. 

Dry red dust billowed about their stomping feet as they traversed deeper into the cavern. Another forty metres and they'd reach the Deep Spelunk, dropping from the main cave to a depth of almost seventy metres. A gentle gradient that made climbing down to the floor of the DS as they called it, quite safe and  smooth. Over the years hundreds of climbers had gone down, proceeding from there to other caves in the depths of Mars. 

Six sets of climbers were the first to descend. Mallory was tethered to him and maneuvered quite agilely, for once quiet, her dinosaur bones safely tucked in her pouch. Rocks jutted here and there, and he used them to secure footholds, with Mallory following him. Other climbers' voices sounded like echoes in the great cavern. 

"You okay, Mallory?" 

"Sure, Papa!" 

With Mallory just above him, he descended purposefully, his hands finding purchase against jutting rocks and crevices, the karabiners dangling from his harness clanging noisily as he moved. He'd use the existing bolts knocked into the rock from previous climbs, hook the belay rope through the carabiners and abseil carefully down. 

"Papa?" 

"Yes, honey?" 

"I'm glad you're my papa." 

"I love you too, honey." 

Then, a sound, like a distant echo. Not voices of other climbers, one father and son pair quite close to them. Chakotay glanced upwards, past Mallory, his eyes finding the ledge of the wall they were descending. Like a soft tremor, reminding him of the many times they'd encountered similar tremors on alien worlds in the Delta Quadrant. It was not a good portent! 

 _We have to get out of here…_  

"Papa, what is that sound?" Mallory asked, a little fear in her voice as she looked down. 

The sound grew, from beneath them, from above, reverberating maddeningly to the surface. 

"Papa!" 

The rumbling increased, the rock face moving like a flag in a breeze. Dust began sifting down. Chakotay’s heart pounded, they had to get back up. They were less than halfway down. He looked to his left, the fear in his face mirrored by other climbers. Already he heard children screaming. The tremor morphed into a raging thunder as rocks began tumbling from above them and the rock face gave way with a deafening roar, an ear-splitting noise that echoed in the vast caverns. Recovering from the fear that immobilised him briefly, he caught Mallory's harness as she clung to a rock that began slowly dislodging. 

"Mallory, hold on, honey!" he cried in desperation, dust, sand and grit sifting down on them, into their eyes. Then a glancing blow against his head as a rock tumbled into the depths amidst a wild orgy of dust and debris. 

Mallory screamed, lost her grip, and plunged directly over his head, the force of her movement yanking  him down hard. He was losing his grip. With all his might, he tried to hold on with one hand, trying to pull the frightened child to him with the other. 

As he lost his grip, they plunged down, down to the floor of Deep Spelunk. 

 _God in heaven…_  

"Mallory! Mallory!" 

Then all was chaos. 

The great noise continued until it stopped. An eerie silence in the depths while dust rose up to the surface. 

*************

END CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

CHAPTER 2

Most of the time the Koreda Transport Station was dark with thickness of night swirling in every crevice of light even though it was only late afternoon. It appeared eerie, like the many space stations we'd encountered in the Delta Quadrant where the gloom became a blanket for the degeneration of life and illicit trade. Not here, though. Despite the darkness, there was warmth. Sounds of vessels departing and arriving formed part of the industry of movement all around me. People hauled luggage, others travelled light with little holdalls slung across their shoulders. Any music I heard was only in my head - snatches of melodies from Earth's great composers that, like well worn ear worms, kept me company whenever I sat alone with my thoughts or waited for someone.

 Inside the café the warmth compensated for the perpetual despair that hung over the station. Behind the counter an alien attendant who always reminded me of Guinan imparted her pearls of wisdom to lone visitors. They appeared in need of upliftment or eventually ignored her caution or reassurances. All had one thing in common - they were leaving or arriving, those departing looking haggard, lines of worry etched on their faces. Who knew what torments drove them, what circumstances waited for them at home? Such a contrast to the general atmosphere on Darayton II, dubbed by some a happy planet. I wouldn't really know as my sojourn here was sporadic and I didn't know many people here.

Did those sad travellers lose a beloved son or daughter or parent? Did a great and abiding friendship come to an end? Have something they searched for come to naught? Mozart and Don Giovanni seemed to be in agreement as " _La ci darem da mano_ " refused to leave me alone while I conjectured my fellow travellers' feelings. 

Momentarily on a gloomy journey with the wayward Don Giovanni and an impressionable young soprano, I shook my head to dispel my runaway thoughts. My journey in reverse, cartwheeling back to the point where it began, waiting for my transport. 

A hand covered mine in a gesture soft and comforting as I was brought back to the present, waking to the light just above me. I blinked several times, my cheeks growing warm as David's face slowly came into focus. 

"You looked far away, Kathryn," he murmured, his hand increasing its grip. 

I gazed into his eyes - liquid light brown eyes that caused another thudding beat of my heart. I studied him, had been doing so a long time. A human like me, wavy brown hair that was always brushed sleekly back. Strong shoulders, although not as tall as Tom or Tuvok. A smiled wavered, a watery smile, I guess. Did he feel like those unhappy, sad patrons at the counter waiting for their orders or slowly sipping cognac or Malon brandy or one of those potent drinks of indeterminate colour? No, I think not. David was different. He lit up the dark in anyone and lifted heaviness to lightness. It was his effect on people, on me. David, whose presence and smile alone could counsel the heavy-laden. 

I gave a small cry as I put down my cup, clanging it in the saucer. I'd hardly noticed the tea getting cold or even the dainty design on the cup. I covered his hand, feeling the trembling under my fingers. I wanted to cry, but I have given up on tears, old salty tears that scored rivers down my cheeks before and which I have banished from me at least for now. I never wanted David to see them, never wanted him to see the despair that swirled inside me, especially now. Like an invisible animal, it gnawed at me and caused a ripple of pain to escape. 

Could he not ease my present pain and fear? I wanted to be happy, smiling and normal again; I suppose I had become too dependent on him to lift the burdens I carried. He sensed my wretchedness, right from our first meeting. I had been surprised at my own reaction then - the subtle lifting of my spirts to where, for a while at least, I could forget my pain. 

"Your transport is leaving in ten minutes," I told him, hardly able to speak above a whisper. "You must go..." 

"I know," he replied, his eyes cloudy, a frown marring his attractive forehead. 

Our tea forgotten, grown cold in the misery of our parting. I had to break this bond, had to sever myself from this drug that seemed to keep me tethered to a dream. My reality awaited me, however dark and miserable and without cheer it was. My decision was made, yet I felt sad and tired all of a sudden. 

"Please, let - " 

"Oh, hello, Mrs Janeway!" 

Surprised, I looked up, rather guiltily pulling my hand away from David as Nala, a young garrulous Bolian student in my class at the University, stood directly in front of us. Where did she appear from so suddenly? I stole a glance at David who looked distressed before pulling himself together. Whatever he felt for me had to come to naught. My mind had been made up, had never really been different at all. Maybe I was simply and briefly side-tracked. Still, the thought that he'd be leaving pained me a great deal.  Nala didn't wait for an invitation as she seated herself on the available chair at our table, looking pointedly at my companion. 

"Hi, I am Nala," she introduced herself, her hand outstretched, but frowning as her bifurcated face squeezed tighter. Did she know him? I wondered. 

"David Cannon. Can I get you anything?" he asked, smiling as they shook hands. 

"Yes. Fire in the hole, please." 

A very, very potent drink as David and I both knew. Nala looked at David's retreating back before she fixed her gaze on me again. 

"Isn't he the modern oracle whose touch can heal the broken-hearted?" she quizzed, not really expecting a reply to her question, I surmised. 

Daniel is a medical doctor, his work rooted in science. But I understood Nala's description of a man who had the ability to draw one to him, one who would be inclined to share all her sorrow and rejoin life again with laughter. I smiled at Nala's description of David and simply nodded nonetheless, wondering what she was doing at the transport station since she lived at the university dorms during the week. I didn't have to wonder long as she launched into conversation. Nala was the type who sucked attention to herself, though not in any mean way. But it was draining just listening to her. 

"Did I tell you I'm heading for Earth, like you, Mrs Janeway? My cousin is getting married and I'm supposed to be his best girl, that sort of thing, you know? Best girl, imagine that! I have to love him because he's family, but I don't like him very much. I don't even like the bride-to-be very much, for that matter. Full of conceit she is. Thinks we're not good enough for her. When we were young, Wellman always teased me, making me cry all the time. But would I ever tell Mom and Dad? No, they would rather believe Wellman, their _nephew_ who could do no wrong in their eyes. I always suspected they wanted a boy, so they showered their affection on him, even though he wasn't their son. I should feel put out by that but I know they love me too. Maybe it was because he was an orphan and I was their girl child, see?" 

Nala's incessant chatter meant nothing really to me. Maybe in another world, another time, another circumstance I might have found something interesting, something of substance in her accounts of cousins, family, inconsequential rambling. But now, her mouth moved, her teeth clicking like figures in an old pantomime. No sound but movement of her lips that seemed endless. It looked ridiculous, that moving mouth out of synch with her words. 

"We were raised together, so I feel more like a sister, you know? He pleaded via subspace, said he'd be desperately unhappy if I didn't come to the wedding. I'm inclined to tell him not to marry Elpaca. Sounds too much like that animal on Earth -  alpaca with the woolly head and swollen lips. Wellman's wife-to-be grows hair on her upper lip and she's such a nasty little thing with those alpaca-lips!" 

 _Stop! Stop! I cannot listen to your ramblings! My heart is buried in darkness, don't you understand? Keep quiet!_ But Nala kept chattering, and I kept wishing David would return before I was driven to throttle Nala, the most garrulous student at the Darayton University. David's transport was leaving any moment! _Please stop, Nala_! 

Then mercifully David returned with her drink. Nala thanked him noisily. "Good," she said, "my tongue and stomach can handle Fire-in-the-hole. Whoever thought up such a name for a drink, for crying out loud? You know, Mrs Janeway, my cousin Wellman and his Elpaca…" 

David gave me a stricken look, one that was mirrored in my own face, for the minutes ticked by inescapably, taking him away from me while Nala the Bolian student wouldn't stop talking. I couldn't look at him, instead focusing on her pantomime lips. I wanted to tell her to shut up or I'd kill her, but daren't. 

A firm, desperate grip on my shoulder that said too much and promised almost nothing. Goodbye was in that grip. Gone forever remained in that final touch. I struggled through pain, yet with a sense of relief that it was over, that I had severed my dependence. I forced my attention on the mime artist in front of me, had to pretend David and I were there by chance, a brief acquaintance. It _was_ brief! I couldn't turn to look as he left the café. The mime seemed oblivious of my distress. 

I glanced towards the exit, for he had moved swiftly through the doors. Gone in a second. Nala stopped her talking as she realised I wasn't paying attention to her. 

"He is strange, Mrs Janeway," she offered when she stopped talking about herself. "Like a person can tell him his problems and he eases them with a touch and a smile." 

Indeed… 

"I need another drink," she said. I was momentarily concerned that she'd think David was my husband and not Chakotay who was waiting for me to return home. Nala scraped her chair loudly as she got up and made her way to the counter. I swung my body to look at the exit. Like a spectre the residue of David's movement seemed to hover in the doorway. 

"David…" 

Then I rushed outside, running towards the platform where his flitter was readying for take off. I had to see him, had to talk to him, say goodbye. Thank him for what he meant to me… What was a squeeze on my shoulder? Nothing! I heard the soft whirring of the flitter's engine and knew beyond doubt that he was on it, taking him to the shuttle stations where he'd board a small ship that would take him to his homeworld, to his family. 

I stood there, lost for a moment. I wanted to remember him, a touch against my forehead that eased the sorrow within me, a touch that understood my trials, my terror, my pain. I wanted to remember the laughs, the smiling face that always seemed to infect me and others. I wanted to remember the sun glinting in his hair, the unblemished openness of his regard. 

I dallied a while, trying to gather my wits, to bring my raging longing under control before I entered the café again where Mime waited to punish my ears with more inane chatter. 

"Say, Mrs Janeway, you do look ill. Are you alright? Shall I get you something? Tea?" Nala asked. 

I shook my head vehemently. Nala didn't appear convinced. 

"Oh, I do talk so much! Our transport will arrive any minute now. Why don't you close your eyes and sleep?" 

In a chair? I'd contemplate it if only to stop listening to Nala's rolling commentary on life with Elpaca. I sat alone for the fifteen minutes it would take the flitter to reach my transport vessel that would take me to Earth and home… 

****

 The journey to our respective transports was short. Nala disembarked and headed for another flight. I was relieved. She didn't seem to think much of David after they were introduced. I dearly wanted to suppose that her fast paced babbling sucked the energy from anyone around her. As long as she could demand and crave that kind of attention on another vessel, good for me. I was free of Nala for my journey to Earth, travelling first to two other homeworlds  before heading to Earth. 

What would I say when I reached home? My mind whirled, a sharp gasp drawing the attention of a traveller disturbed from her reading. I glanced around me. Like inside the café, men and women were sunken in their own thoughts, trials and tribulations. No one seemed happy. No one from the university who might have recognised me in the waiting room, except Nala the Mime. I can still picture her mouth moving. But I was fraught with worry. My face felt warm just remembering that lost grip on my shoulder, and the cascading memories of laughing together, being filled with guilty joy that I could be that way with a person I'd met briefly. I wanted to reach home feeling the lightness of being, of sorrow tucked away where it wouldn't haunt me day after day after day. 

"Kathryn, you know that you can smile without feeling you will forget the pain in your life." 

So many things he said. I learned to explore the smiles and the laughs and the creeping freedom from guilt, my journey to the light hesitant but unstoppable, little by little cutting away at the hard core that surrounded my sadness. 

I gave another cry but closed my eyes and pretended no one heard me. This time I must have drifted off to sleep, because I rocked to wakefulness when the computer's voice needled into my brain. 

I reached Indiana in early evening. Always, when I returned home, it was with a sense of dreaded reality, like returning after an exotic vacation; for a while the soul yearned for that freedom, without ever thinking of rules, duties, stress of home life. Like you wanted the idyll to linger forever. But Indiana was my reality as it beckoned in the waning light of an autumn evening. 

What awaited me there as I approached the house with pounding heart and a sense of my world dropping from me? 

Riordan and Rebecca and Chakotay. 

Bottom step to the porch, five steps up. Don't think! Let him go! Second step, third step… David is gone, his hold on you is over. Your husband and your children are waiting for you. 

Top step, front door. 

With a deep sigh I forcibly banished David to hidden corners too dark for anyone to see. I gazed pensively at my wedding band. The day Chakotay had asked me to marry him, he'd already had our rings planned months before, which I'd learned afterwards, even though so much had happened that drove a wedge between us on Voyager. Two toned rose and white gold, the most delicate filigree of twisting vines, inlaid with tiny diamonds. I remembered my shock at seeing the beautiful bands and he'd given a sheepish grin, said how he'd commissioned Chell and Lessing to design and craft the rings. I told him how sentimental it was and he'd given another little grin. I deserved only the very best, he'd said, fifteen years ago. 

Another pain-filled sigh. Dear Chakotay. 

Take a deep breath, I told myself. One, long, deep breath. 

As I opened the door, silence greeted me at first. Nothing unusual whenever I returned from a mission. Then I heard footsteps - Chakotay's, for I knew the sound of his footfall in our home. On Voyager I always sensed it was him walking down a corridor even if I didn't see him. He smiled as he entered the lounge, so familiar, so achingly familiar, yet his smile was a mere veil through which I could see something akin to despair. Always despair and hope too, I suspect. Although he kept his hair cropped short like on Voyager, he had almost completely turned grey. Not old, not really for a man of sixty, but it made him even more distinguished, more untouchable, I supposed, when Academy cadets looked at him. As he entered the lounge, there was a momentary aperture - was it fear that I detected in his eyes? He looked so tired and dispirited! I felt an immediate burn in my heart for the deep affection that welled up in me for my husband. Chakotay afraid! Chakotay usually afraid of nothing! 

It seemed to dissipate as he drew me into his embrace. I welcomed his closeness, nuzzled my nose against his sweater, his smell so achingly dear. A fleeting memory of a time - that first day on Voyager's bridge when we squared off, his face full of anger  - when I'd inhaled his cologne. Like the early morning ocean waves and sea breeze merged. It was so long ago, yet every time I stood so close to him, or he passed me in the corridors of Headquarters, I'd picture us standing on the bridge and feel the wafting of the breeze in my nostrils. I'd always associated our first meeting with churning oceans and the fresh smell of morning mists. I wanted to linger in his arms just a while longer to enjoy my husband, to whirl away in mists. But he held me away from him and gazed into my eyes. 

"Kathryn, beloved, you're back!" he exclaimed, gripping my shoulders with his strong hands. I closed my eyes as Chakotay kissed my cheek, trying to forget how another man offered me solace with a touch of his hand. I was absurdly glad that the silent sigh I heard was simply in my head. Always so attuned to my moods, Chakotay would have noticed something amiss. 

"The Clarion bypassed three planets. No one there who wanted to travel to Earth," I told him, the touch of his lips on mine fleeting, forgettable, so olde-world. "Are the kids with the Parises?" I enquired further, quite unnecessary when I knew they were home, it was a school night. 

"No. They returned late from school, had dinner with me then settled in their rooms to work on their assignments. They missed you, Kathryn…" 

Stated as a fact. From him it would never come as an accusation. I looked into his eyes, old eyes, born with a familiarity of having known him for more than twenty years. A sudden flash of David's bright, liquid brown laughing eyes. Unable to prevent myself, I gave a little cry, frowning as I clutched my bosom. 

"Kathryn? Honey? What's the matter? Have you been working too hard?" 

"It was quite intensive, " I replied. "Lectures went very well as usual. Bright students who challenge me. I'm alright. Nothing that a cup of tea couldn't cure. But I'll go see the children first, then join you later. Don't worry, I ate on the _Clarion._ " 

"Kathryn…" 

"What is it?" I asked, this time banishing images of David's laughing eyes and bright smile and seeing only my husband. Chakotay held my gaze with eyes dark with concern. 

"I worry about you, you know? Ever since you've undertaken to give master classes on Darayton II. I know! I know! You had our blessing!" 

I pressed against him, sagging with disappointment when the energy of sensual ripples that marked our heady early years seemed to drift away between us. But I held him close, searching vainly for the old sparks, resigning myself when they didn't ignite quite as in the past, yet retained perhaps a great sense of comfort. 

"Don't worry so, okay?" I tried reassuring him. "The semester is almost over. Two more lectures…" 

My words were muffled against his chest, so hard and reassuring, so here and now, so immediate. David seemed suddenly far away. Not gone, just on the other side of my consciousness. For the next few minutes he had to remain incognito. 

Minutes later I knocked softly on Rebecca's door and entered, expecting to see her asleep. She was sitting at her desk, PADD in hand, her vidcom open. 

"Mom?" 

My beautiful daughter, twelve and growing taller, her hair long and flowing down her back. Pitch black like her father's with startling blue eyes, my colouring, my mouth, is what everyone said. Bright as a button, ready to absorb as much as she could while still at school. 

"Hey…still busy?" 

"I have to finish this, else old Jabberwocky will skin me alive tomorrow," she replied, rising from her chair. 

"No, don't get up honey," I said as leaned in to hug her to me, pressing my lips into her hair.  "I missed you." 

"I missed you too!" 

"Don't stay up too long, okay?" 

"Is that Admiral Janeway speaking, or my mommy?" 

When Rebecca smiled, it was a punch to my gut. Long furrows down her father's cheeks sat strikingly on her. She was a beautiful child. 

"Your mom," I replied, trying to sound upbeat. "Admiral Janeway is not in the house!" 

"Thanks, Mom. I do like old Jabberwocky. Says I keep him on his toes." 

I remembered how Owen Paris told me that during my first year at the Academy. Rebecca looked so young, so fresh-faced, so ready to take on the world! She reminded me so much of me at that age. But, she was her father's child too, with her father's sense of adventure, spelunking, climbing, aerial jumping. At twelve, doing all those things that gave me ten heart attacks. Especially after… A sudden flash of a little girl, a sparkling face that embraced the sea and the desert and the sky, celebrating the joy of living, bright tinkling sounds of laughter that filled the air. A tight ball of pain that refused to dissolve, the urge to cry out from the force of it. 

A voice. 

"Mom…Mom…" 

Rebecca's voice drifted over oceans and deserts and sky. I looked at her with glazed eyes, momentarily absent from the present. 

"W-What?" 

"Stay with me, Mom. I'm here…" 

When her face came into focus again, Rebecca was standing up, her face full of concern. I pulled her close, enjoyed feeling her youthful, growing body against me. 

"Sorry." 

"Don't be, Mom, okay?" 

I nodded mutely at this young teen who sensed my brief departure into morbid remembrance of something gone forever. 

"Okay. Need any help?" I asked, as I picked up her PADD and glanced quickly at the scrolling data.. 

"Nope." 

"Don't know why I asked," I said, chuckling, putting the device down. I turned to the door, then turned to look at her. "I guess Riordan's probably sleeping." 

Rebecca gave me her engagingly innocent three-year-old-little-girl wide-eyed look. 

"Uh…no, Mother. Not that one." 

I gave a little chuckle. "See you in the morning, honey." 

"Night, Mom." 

Once in Riordan's room I just managed not to gasp out loud. The place was in a shambles. A picture of Worf hung askew on the wall, the bat-leth given him by the Klingon balancing precariously on its bracket. Did he engage in practice throws against the wall? If he did, what object did he throw? His bed looked like he hadn't made it up in the few days I was away. Shoes, hover blade, Parrisses squares mallet and pads, boxing gloves lay haphazard in one corner. 

"Are you in there, Riordan?" I asked rather hesitantly as I glanced at the lump on the other side of the bed. A blond head peeked through the covers on the floor. 

"Mom! What are you doing here?" 

What was he doing under the covers? Should I tell his father? 

"I'm your mother, I'm supposed to be here - " 

"After three days?" 

"You know I go every fortnight. I missed you, sweetheart." 

Riordan crawled from the depths of the blankets, dressed in only a pair of shorts. He scrambled in search of a T-shirt, found the rumpled garment on his desk and pulled it on. Then he hugged me, my ribs protesting as his arms clamped round my waist. Dark-eyed Riordan, all Chakotay in spite of his blond hair and lack of dimples. When he released me, he tugged at his ear in an endearing impression of his father. 

"Hi, Mom. Welcome back. Did Mime give you a hard time?" 

I couldn't help smiling. Weeks ago, I told them about Nala the Bolian student who couldn't stop talking. 

"Yes, she did." 

"No offence, Mother, but I hope never to meet her. I have only two good ears and you know where I always lend them!" 

"You should remember that when your father cautions you to keep your room tidy when I'm away." 

Riordan stood back, surveyed his domain and chuckled. A warmth spread through me. At fourteen he was nearly as tall and strong as his father, with a sheepish grin that reminded me so strongly of Chakotay. Despite our son's lack of order in his bedroom, Riordan was an academic prodigy, already in his third year at university where he would remain until his sixteenth year for a master's programme before heading for the Academy like his parents. He'd insisted, although we'd told him other career paths were open to him. By the time he was eleven, Grandma Gretchen roundly informed us that her grandson had surpassed her in theoretical mathematics and that he should enter university since she could no longer tutor him. 

Riordan looked anything but a prodigy. He was simply all boy and like Rebecca, enjoyed the outdoor sports and activities their father loved so much. He was into anything that involved moving about at breakneck speed and that included Velocity. We could understand his desire to join the Academy. "I want to be an amalgam of my parents, see? Explore all cultural, historical, scientific and any and all other quicks and quirks." Chakotay had given our son a quizzical look, yet unable to conceal how proud he was of Riordan. But our son's room was a dump, I swear! 

"Don't worry, Mom. In the morning my cocoon will be spotless and everything in its place." 

"I'll check!" I warned him, smiling as I left his room and headed for the kitchen. I paused by one closed door, caressed the embossed letters with trembling fingers. The familiar screaming in my bosom was brief though intense as I inhaled deeply and rushed into the kitchen before I collapsed in another vortex of pain. 

Alone for a few minutes before joining Chakotay, I succumbed to the strain I'd been under the entire journey from the Koreda Transport Station.  My hands were shaking as I ordered my tea from the replicator. Reaction had finally set in and I had no way of controlling it. The cup rattled on its saucer, the liquid spilling as I sat own at the table, loath to join Chakotay just yet. He'd be deep in _War and Peace_ anyway. 

I breathed in haltingly, willing the shivering to stop. For a few precious moments, I could vent my longing for David, escape into a world we'd created where he was the oracle and I the willing supplicant in need of saving from the dark sorrow-filled caverns that had kept me hostage for so long. It perplexed me that I could, at times, almost forget Chakotay. I kept looking forward to a person who only needed to look at me, to touch my forehead, to whisper in my ear that my darkness would soon be at an end. One who taught me it was okay to laugh and not feel guilty for being so happy. 

What was this joy and sorrow so inextricably linked? As if one without the other was not enough to create a wholeness within me. I'd felt that with David, my sadness was no longer so depressing into my soul, yet it needed laughter to counteract my pain. I wanted to hold on to what David taught me, linger on those thoughts, for I'd become afraid of losing this newness within me. Would Chakotay notice? I wondered as I sipped my tea. 

How was I going to carry on? Life with my own husband had drifted into politeness, the comfort of togetherness. These days always agreeing on things with none of the old fiery objections and fights that kept our relationship alive and brimming with energy with the underlying certainty that we were at peace when we hit our pillows. Now we slept together, and our sporadic intimacy in bed had drifted into mere thoughtful lovemaking which left both of us sinking into melancholy soon after. We'd lie spooned together and sigh deeply, only to find ourselves hours later lying quite far apart, with Chakotay barely hugging the edge of the bed before tumbling to the floor.  

At the heart of it all, a bright face turned upwards to embrace land and sea and sky and life… Sighing, I drank my tea, enjoying the warmth as I swallowed, allowing it to settle my raging unhappiness. 

I missed David! I longed for his openness, his engaging smile, the eyes that always regarded me with understanding, with compassion, with the ability to offer solace. He touched me, softened the hard knot of pain which dissipated gradually the more I sought his company. 

"You see, Kathryn, I wish to see joy in your face again." 

"What about you?" I'd asked him once. 

"What I feel for you now, is irrelevant, dear Kathryn. I desire for you to be healed." 

So I asked myself a hundred times how a complete stranger could have that effect on me. I asked myself how I, a married woman, could lean towards someone other than my husband to offer what surely should have been between husband and wife only. Yet there it was. I found myself attracted to this stranger who drifted into my life, so much that I craved to be near him again. 

I shook my head, trying to dispel thoughts of David Cannon. After a minute or two, calm, such as it was, settled again and I finished my tea, ready to join Chakotay in the great lounge of our Indiana farmhouse, our base away from Starfleet Headquarters, Academy life, Marseilles, the opera…David… 

"Kathryn…?" 

Chakotay's voice sounded as if it travelled from a great distance, like an echo. Sighing, I put the cup down. Lately Earl Grey had grown on me. Perhaps later tonight I'd have another. 

"Be there in a second." 

My words sounded tremulous as I moved towards the lounge, my movement half-hearted, my heart thudding. I feared Chakotay would see how unsettled I was. He knew me so well and why not? Seven years on Voyager working so closely together, then married for fifteen years since our arrival home… And no, not really the juvenile completing of one another's sentences but a deep instinctive knowledge, a sense of anything that troubled me or him. He'd know something was up, especially tonight, especially now that David was gone… 

Chakotay lowered the book slowly on his lap as I entered, an expectant look on his face, a smile that hovered at the corners of his mouth, like someone afraid to be spontaneous. I kissed him, a little deeply, a little more probing. I inhaled his ocean dew cologne, felt the old familiar tug at just wanting to linger in his arms. His mouth opened under mine; I tasted his tongue, grazed his teeth… a thought, quote illogical, of fingers performing a glissando on a piano. Chakotay moaned, but pushed me gently away from him, _War and Peace_ sailing off his lap, lying haphazardly open on the floor. He probably lost the page he'd been reading.

"I missed you, Kathryn…" he said gently as he bent to pick up his book, ineffectually trying to find his last page. He read like that - no bookmarks. 

I tried to smile, to acknowledge his words, especially their intent. Somehow they stuck right in my throat. I could only gaze at him as I seated myself on the sofa opposite him. He sat in his favourite leather chair, given him by the children and their grandmother five years ago. It had cloaked itself around its new owner like a jealous lover and no one attempted to usurp his throne. 

"I've been away only three days," I explained. "You know I do this every fortnight - " 

"It still feels like an eon, I don't mind admitting it," Chakotay replied as he found the page he’d last read, settling in with a sigh as he began reading again. 

I felt dismissed, though I innately knew that it wasn't so. We'd always sat like this, in companionable silence punctuated by occasional snippets of conversation. Maybe it was my presence but I could see Chakotay looked less tired now that his extreme anxiety seemed dissipated. I shook my head mentally. We were like two very old people grown accustomed to our silences, sunken in our meanderings of things past, things that troubled, things that, if I had to admit it to myself, could have been avoided. But we both played our emotions that way, I suppose, after what had happened. Conversation had begun to dry up, although it never, ever supplanted our love for one another. That remained the constant. We needed healing, any idea of outside counselling rejected as we sought to correct it within our marriage. We needed to talk openly, to confront our demons head-on and rage and bleed until we could have closure. 

Music played softly in the background as always. The melody teased, full orchestral symphonic tones counterpointed by the mellow rippling of a solo wind instrument. I frowned trying to identify the music, something by Mozart. 

"You really love Mozart," I murmured, sitting back and drawing my feet up under me, gazing almost unseeingly at him.   

Chakotay smiled distractedly. "Yes. Mozart's oboe concerto. A Susan Nicoletti recording." 

Susan who played oboe so brilliantly on Voyager. Chakotay didn't look up, keeping  his nose in the book when he spoke. What was happening to us? I wondered. Are we always going to sit like this - two old people with little left to talk about? I used to love that we could be like this, but the past few years it has sunk to where we sigh and forget to converse, to engage, to love, to lean over and just kiss each other silly. That spontaneity is gone. After fifteen years of marriage, did the bubble finally burst? We have had major upheavals, tragedy, yet recovery from that wasn't enough to prevent our marriage sinking into the silt below the waters of a river. Like neither of us wanting to move because silt felt too good! 

I studied my husband, the familiar planes of his face, the way his eyes followed the text when he turned a page. Words were to him little diamonds of wealth and worth and meaning. Sometimes he'd stare blankly into space and I'd know he was mulling over words, phrases, paragraphs before continuing. I was in his peripheral vision but did he see me? These days he seemed disinclined to engage in small talk and I? Right now I was tormented by my own dilemma, a man named David who filled my being and made me feel again. 

And so I began a silent conversation with Chakotay. Strange how it had never happened before, even with such great turmoil in our lives. My hands were still shaking, though not as intensely as in the kitchen. I balled them into fists and when I looked, my knuckles appeared like white marbles, my nails digging into the soft skin of my palm. 

Chakotay… 

I gave a soft little sob as I fixed my gaze on his still form as I prepared to speak to him in sentences without sound, with lips from which no sound issued.

 _Dear, dear Chakotay! There's so much I wanted to say to you, so much I desired to disclose. You're the only one in the entire universe with enough wisdom and gentleness and inherent goodness who could understand what was in my heart right now._  

How could the one person who understood the caprices and trials of love and connection and loss be also the same person to whom I could never reveal this new pain? My heart ached so deeply that I wondered whether healing would ever wipe away the hurt and expose those scars in moments of involuntary lament.

_You see, Chakotay, my heart wants to break because I met a very unusual man who has drawn me closer to him, even when my whole being screamed in denial. They call him an oracle, one who could heal through voice and calm and touch. I feel incredibly drawn to him, not because he is an attractive man with a caring demeanour, but because he sensed my sorrow and my fear. Like a disciple who sometimes blindly followed a leader no matter how false his doctrine, I found myself unable to extricate from him. It is stupid, I know! I am drawn to this man, attracted even, and right now I am sick with dread at separating from him, sick with losing him. His name is David Cannon, but aloud I can never, ever tell you of this. While I am looking at you, I am thinking of him, and yet…_

_And yet!_

_I cannot tell you! I don't ever want you to be hurt. You are a good man, Chakotay, the best. We are a happily married couple, with two very bright and sparkling children we both adore passionately, who look up to their parents to set standards for them. I just don't want you to be hurt! This is my home, Indiana my beginning and my end, if God allowed! You look so comfortable sitting there, so content in that chair, the fireplace lit even though the warmth of the late autumn was still upon is._

_What a picture we are! You reading, Mozart's music playing, and I over here with my PADD still on my lap, a useless device in useless, trembling hands! How could I ever hurt you? The idea was insupportable. Not on Voyager, not in the aftermath of your failed relationship with Annika Hansen, not in the fifteen years of our marriage have I ever wanted to see you hurt. But Chakotay, I was a happily married woman until I met David._

_How much pain it's costing to recount this sorry tale! But it must have a starting point, Chakotay, dear, sweet, loving Chakotay._  

Another sob escaped as I travelled down a road to that day, months ago in Admiral Paris's office where everything began. 

******

END CHAPTER 2

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

I'd been deep in my research on Delta Quadrant interstellar travel to sectors we hadn't passed through during our seven year odyssey. Diplomatic bonds were to be forged which Chakotay and I had spearheaded as ambassadors. The New United Federation of Planets [Delta Quadrant] was very slowly taking shape, with homeworlds eager to benefit from protection against warring worlds and sharing of resources. The Kazon sects that had not joined in the new alliances were slowly coming round to the idea of peace once they'd acknowledged that water sources could be shared. You'd think that after more than twenty years they'd learnt to share.  So many things! 

It was pioneering work which kept us busy, so busy that it prevented us from sinking into morbid recollections of the things that afflicted us. Yet, immersion in work could not entirely compensate for those sporadic instances in which we were all terrorised by our traumas, especially Chakotay. Riordan and Rebecca struggled those first months, trying to be brave at school, unable to mask their own pain. They were just children and, unlike adults hardened by life, were unable to fight and stay strong. Because Chakotay struggled so much, most of the children's emotional recovery fell to me, to their Aunt Phoebe and their grandmother. 

Staying strong sapped our energy, our resilience and ultimately any resurgence of hope from our despair. It left us drained, almost incapable of restoring the excitement and energy that was part of our lives our lives. 

My office overlooked the impressive and lush landscape of the grounds around Headquarters. Many times I'd stand by the window and observe people walking, talking, holding hands, kissing… And I wondered how they could look so happy while I still felt bereft of joy. Sometimes I was just so lost in memories. 

_"Mommy, did you know a triceratops has three horns? Tri means three!"_

_"Papa is taking us to climb in Yosemite Park. Captain James T. Kirk climbed there!"_

_Captain Kirk very nearly died climbing El Capitan… "He is? Papa didn't tell me!"_

_"Don't worry so, Mommy. Papa will take good care of us!"_  

"Admiral…" 

I looked up to see Lieutenant  Kimendi staring intently at me. Then he smiled. 

"You were gone there for a minute." 

"What shall I do without you?" I said, turning away from the window. 

Prakash Kimendi, appointed when I was promoted to admiral in the first year of our return home, was ageing along with me, one who suffered with us during our darkest hours, whose constant presence was like a balm to me. 

"You have an appointment with Admiral Paris in about…ten minutes." 

Surprised that time had flown by so quickly that morning, I shook my head mentally. I'd forgotten completely about the meeting with Owen Paris who was still going strong although his grandkids were all over him. Miral was now a young Academy cadet and with her two brothers and baby sister really turned the Paris household upside down. 

Lieutenant Kimendi had not moved since he'd spoken, a humorous curve to his mouth. His hair, once dark and lush like Chakotay's was now almost white, like Chakotay's. How had the years flown by so quickly, so unnoticed? 

"Thank you, Prakash," I said, feeling a little guilty for making him wait. "I'll be off. I won't be returning to the office. Be so kind and contact Admiral Chakotay. Tell him I'll probably be running a little late. We're leaving for Indiana tonight. Lock up, will you?" 

"Indeed, Admiral." 

*************************** 

Ten minutes later I sat in Owen's office. His solemn appearance made me frown. The usual smile with which he always greeted me was missing. We were family friends, our children visited the Paris kids, slept over, had pyjama parties. Palings was the large Paris family home and we'd often visited, just like Tom, B'Elanna and the kids stayed over in Indiana. Now Owen Paris looked almost austere. I had a sudden vision of that same look three years ago when he'd arrived at Palings bearing terrible news. 

"Anything the matter, Admiral Paris?" My heart thudded in my throat. 

"Nothing that will infect or kill you, Kathryn. I received communication from Darayton II. You know they have a very good university there." 

I nodded. Darayton II was fast becoming the next homeworld outside of Earth and Vulcan to boast excellent tertiary education facilities. Situated near the Demilitarized Zone, it had stepped up its development programmes just after the Cardassian purge and now ranked as the next best institution for students, especially in post graduate programmes.  

"They want to run a series of master classes in quantum  physics as well as other areas of science and requested someone from the Academy to prepare a course outline and conduct the lectures. I thought you'd be the ideal professor to teach for a short semester - " 

"You have no one else? What about Professor Du'Bruq? He teaches the first year cadets - " 

I didn't really want to know who would be conducting classes in the other areas of science. Probably teachers from Vulcan. Owen Paris seemed not to hear my objection. Why me? I wondered. 

"You need to go," Admiral Paris said. "It's once every two weeks for a day. You will be gone only three days per fortnight if you include traveling. They've sent us a copy of the course outline…" 

"I _need_ to go?" I asked, stressing the word 'need'. Why did it sound like an injunction? 

"You know why, Kathryn. You are working too hard here and it is affecting your life. You are running on empty! You and Chakotay both! I hear from Riordan and Rebecca, through Miral and Owen junior… They feel well, dismissed, you know? A distraction - " 

I turned ice cold at the knowledge of where his concern was leading to. Owen Paris had been the one who brought me the terrible news of the accident. Like an angel of death, he'd stood that day in front of me bearing a message of doom. The walls of their lounge had seemed to close on me. Elizabeth Paris stood in the entrance, her face a blur as Owen's words lashed me. 

Everyone knew, everyone offered solace and sympathy. But they'd been on the outside, beyond the fringe of our terror where it was easy to commiserate if the tragedy was not your tragedy. What did they know of what happened in our home? We'd cautiously shifted aside any conversation about what happened three years ago, avoiding open and heart wrenching honest dialogue. I felt dizzy, overcome by nausea which I suppressed forcefully. It would not escape Owen Paris if he noted my sudden discomfiture. When I could recover sufficiently he spoke again. This time his eyes only held understanding and compassion . From him I could endure it, for that day of the accident it was in his arms that I wept. 

"I haven't seen you smile, let alone laugh in three years, Kathryn. Neither has your husband been inclined to do so. Your laugh lines have disappeared! From both of you! What happened to you and Chakotay caused great suffering and unbelievable trauma and I cannot order you to snap out of it. Grieving, as any counsellor worth his or her salt would tell you, is a process. It is your right to mourn, to weep, even to challenge the spirits for the unbearable burden placed on you and your family. Teaching in a completely different environment might help in reducing the pain…" 

Owen's words began to fade as I thought of those months after the accident, the hope that flared then slowly died like embers reduced to ash when we thought we were strong enough. We tried, tried so hard to accept the inevitable! 

"Maybe you are trying too hard," Admiral Paris said, as if he'd read my thoughts. 

"Maybe," I conceded, the idea of teaching post graduate students suddenly appealing to me. "Please, let me discuss this with Chakotay and I will let you know, Owen." 

"Good. And Kathryn, it will be good for you. Take it as a fortnightly vacation. You have tried to be too many things at once and they're wearing you down. You and Chakotay are the best we have. For the sake of your children, but mostly for your own sakes, get away. This is an ideal opportunity to breathe a little away from everything that is too close to you." 

I wouldn't put anything past Admiral Owen Paris, such a wily old goat. He could easily have engineered the whole thing. But he was right, whether I chose to do his bidding or not. We had become clogged with devastating memories, and strong as I always imagined we were, tragedy tripped us up. 

****

**The present**

_Do you remember that day, Chakotay, when I comm'ed you at the Academy? I wanted you to have time to think about it before we returned to Indiana. You had been so eager that I go! Did you want to get rid of me? I asked you. No, you replied, we needed some time apart too. Why? I wanted to know. We seem to be drifting, you said. But we love each other, don't we? Yes, I will always love you, you know that. It might just work for us, you never know._  

I remembered that conversation so clearly. The children were happy! They were smiling and laughing before we were able to break through our gloom. I felt a little put out that they were growing up and not needing us so much anymore.   

You'd looked so hopeful that night when we talked about it again, telling me it would be a good opportunity to create a little distance, to step back from our woes. I was always reassured by how you felt about me, despite our sufferings. Your feelings were never in doubt. Did I mention before that you're a good man, Chakotay? 

The children were eager to get rid of me for a few days during one semester at a foreign university. They could take care of themselves, they assured me. I worried about them as you know; they were our babies! Then you told me how Riordan had long ago outgrown his baby shoes and was already rubbing shoulders with university students ten years his senior. Rebecca was trying on my shade of rouge, which of course didn't work - our colouring was so different, her face too childish. Such an independent young lady already! So my family was happy to send me off to Darayton II for a few days every couple of weeks. 

That night I stood in front of the one door that always remained closed in our home. A tightness had formed in my bosom like it always had whenever I had to pass that door. No one ever entered it - not Chakotay, not Riordan, not Rebecca. On the door were the letters over which my fingers trembled, each one pausing before moving on to the next, until I had spelled her name: _Mallory_. 

 _I am going away, Mallory, so I can laugh a little more, be happy a little more, try to forget…how can I forget?_  

"Kathryn?" your name sounded softly behind me. 

"I'm not ready to go in." Sadness tinged in my voice, raspy, tear-filled. I suddenly couldn't breathe, the tight knot inside me wouldn't dissolve. Chakotay's hand rested gently on my shoulder, the knot easing a little. His near ness was always so soothing. 

"You have to, at some point." 

"Both of us." 

"Yes."

 _I turned into your arms, Chakotay, and simply let myself go for a few minutes and I wondered like so many times before, how your closeness, the way your arms enfolded me could absorb my pain. Was it because you always absorbed so much of it, even during our Voyager days? Dear Chakotay, when did the laughter and the joy leave us? There had been so much of it when Riordan and Rebecca and Mallory were born, when they were little children, when we married, when you were promoted to admiral and wanted to take me to Riza just to celebrate._  

 _I lay in your arms that night, something we haven't done in a long, long time. Had it not been for the children we would have slept in separate rooms and so we each created our own furrows on the great bed where we'd lately become comfortable and loath to change. But that night you held me close and the kisses that followed were welcomed. I craved the intimacy of touch, of sensual pleasure. I wanted it so badly, but wept inward tears when you sighed and said "Sorry…" like so many times before._  

*********

 The journey to Darayton II was uneventful, although I felt the familiar flutters of excitement to teach in a new environment. Chakotay and the children accompanied me to the transport stations where I boarded a flitter that would take me to the orbital station. 

The USS Clarion was a colony vessel en route to Darayton II and neighbouring worlds. I was given the executive suite and basically left alone, except at dinner time when I met with Captain Delonghi, sharing a meal at the captain's table, engaging in talks about the Delta Quadrant's NUFP. When I returned to my suite, I was in a hurry to contact Chakotay again. Gone only a day and I missed him already. I longed to hear his voice, see his beloved face, see the worry creases disappear like magic. 

"Well, there's no turning back now," I'd said as I touched the vidscreen. I loved him so, loved everything about him, about us, I supposed. 

A sudden flash of that last week on Voyager, when Seven of Nine, deceptive ingénue that she was, her face impassive as she clutched Chakotay's arm, claimed him for herself. She'd created much discord by proclaiming that Voyager's first officer was tired of waiting for his captain, that she could fill that void. All I could see was Chakotay's eyes, his look of knowledge of my devotion to him and the memory of our night together. And Chakotay, dear, dear Chakotay slowly disengaging Seven's arm and telling her gently that he belonged to one person only, in mind, body and soul while he looked at me. I could never enjoy the misery of others, but that moment the ex-Borg's eyes broke and spilled with tears. I felt her wretchedness for had I not felt the same when Chakotay 'dated' her and I believed he was lost to me forever? 

Now Chakotay's face filled the screen looking so assured in his feelings for me. 

"You go and enjoy the lectures, my love. I know how you thrive on the challenges of science." 

"The children are okay?" 

"Don't worry about them. Riordan, as you know, is self-sufficient beyond your normal fourteen-year-old if he can manage to keep his room tidy and Rebecca is kept busy trying to beat Riordan." 

"She beats him only at Velocity!" 

"Mother's girl." 

"Thank you very much!" 

Chakotay's mouth had pulled into a smile. At least that's what it looked like as I suddenly remembered Owen Paris's words. I spent the time in the Clarion's holodecks sharpening my Velocity skills against a holocharacter who looked a little like Seven of Nine. The rest of the time was spent in the office set in an alcove of my suite preparing lectures on quantum physics which, as much as I hated to admit it, was invigorating as I focused on streams of scientific data. It reminded me of my years at the Academy when I worked so hard to impress Captain Owen Paris as his rank had been then. 

Yes, it kept me busy, kept me from dwelling on sleeping in grooves on our big bed in Indiana, from walking past a door with Mallory's name on it, from wondering about all the "ifs" and might have beens, from trying to convince Chakotay to see a councillor for those furrows in our bed. Some people called us lucky to have such a solid marriage, with such well-adjusted children, one which withstood the elements of fate and calamity. They were on the outside looking in, with the mild impassivity people usually adopted when the tragedy wasn't theirs. 

Standing at a grave with a simple grave stone bearing our daughter's name, I'd thought how elsewhere in the world, people were laughing, were joyously happy, had fun, engaged in scintillating discourse on the benefits of Joyfulness which they possessed in any case. All the while my world crumbled and dropped, leaving us all shattered beyond measure. Sanity and intimacy occurred in the privacy of our home as we slowly clawed our way back to life. We were not there. Yet. Maybe Owen Paris was right. The road to recovery was slow and arduous, but fresh new air, fresh faces, fresh circumstances might just be the elixirs to get us there. 

So I continued my preparations with some degree of anticipation. The Clarion, a small colony vessel used mainly for shuttling colonists who worked on Earth and Mars and were returning home, docked briefly at the orbital station above Darayton II. I would be given a suite in the university's main dormitory for teaching staff for a one night sleepover. Upon my return to the Clarion, I would spend the night in my quarters as the ship visited neighbouring homeworlds before returning to Earth. In all, it would be three full days and I would reach home only in the evening of the third day. Already Chakotay, Riordan and Rebecca seemed so far away! 

My commbadge beeped. It was Captain DeLonghi. We'd reached Darayton II. I would teach quantum physics to senior students in my capacity as representative of Starfleet. I was ready! 

I gave a big sigh. A new dimension awaited me. 

***********

 During class I wore my uniform even though it was not required. I travelled in ambassadorial dress, though. I lectured three senior classes that day, noting that besides Daraytons, many of the students were Bolians, K'tarians, some Vulcans and a smattering of humans whose families settled along the Darayton Cluster. They were every inch as bright and eager as any Academy cadet who'd come through my hands. They were quick to fire questions, even quicker to offer intelligent responses. One student, Nala, a Bolian, couldn't stop nattering away during the post lecture discussions and I wondered if anything went into her head! Apparently it did! She was older than the other students and very, very alert and bright.

 _It was good, Chakotay. Remember that first fortnight when I returned home and told you how I enjoyed teaching seniors again? We'd been so busy with other things, so busy wallowing in our sorrow and taking care of two irrepressible teens that I'd forgotten how pleasurable it could be!_  

 _I loved you then, with my whole heart. Even as I felt how our world had become dark, you were there as my guiding light, my support. Your eyes were always tinged with deep sadness only Riordan, Rebecca and I understood, for outside of our intimate circle no-one could touch our sadness. Once I told you not to dwell on what happened, and you had looked at me as if I'd said something horribly inappropriate._  

"How can I forget when all I remember is plunging into the depths of hell?" 

It always came to that. It left grooves in our bed. We rolled into them away from intimacies such as a healthy marriage craved and occurred too infrequently, even though you'd been given a clean bill of health. And always, conversations about them meandered futilely into circles so that I wondered at the number of times we'd been at a particular point before. 

I slept over at the university as had been arranged but had to be at the transport stations at 1700, which left me with time to kill. You had already done all the research about interesting places to visit and museums remained at the top of the list. The children wanted things from the craft markets and Darayton's First City boasted an excellent market, a lot like the one on Naxos Island in the Aegean! 

But dearest Chakotay, it was while waiting for my transport to arrive that everything changed. To be honest, I didn't know it would change that first week, since it had been such an incidental meeting. 

I met David Cannon. 

I imagined that day again, swamped by the memories and images that flitted by. 

The station has a cafeteria, quite large, with broad, open entrances to the platforms where one could see flitters arriving and departing with great haste, it seemed. My ride would only depart at 1800, so I had almost an hour to myself, enjoying the low noise of patrons who came in for drinks or light meals. I liked the cafeteria instantly because they had beverages on their menus for Earth humans, Klingons and Vulcans and I suppose anyone else who wanted to drink tea or Vulcan Mocha or raktajino. The more adventurous liquors were consumed by those who had raspy tongues and stomachs, like the Bolians. The server was a human woman who was as tall as most of the men. She was very friendly and had a young helper whom I assumed to be her daughter. 

I chose a table quite away from the bustle of patrons, tucked in a corner so that the entrance was in view as well as the counter where there were three or four patrons seated, nursing their drinks and keeping up inconsequential chatter with the proprietor who didn't seem to mind dishing out a lifetime of wisdom to them. 

 _It felt like Earth, to be honest, Chakotay, and so it didn't seem too strange to me. It made being away from you and the children bearable!_  

Sipping my tea, my mind drifted unashamedly to the terrible day three years ago, the day the world darkened around our family and plunged us into the bowels of hell.

 Mallory had announced earlier that week that she had to go on a weekend excursion with Chakotay.

"Mallory, how long have you known?"

 My surprise had been obvious and Chakotay was quite put out by her announcement. Our lives had been so busy we'd hardly taken much notice of our youngest child's school activities, relying on a six year old to remind us of due dates for projects. I felt instantly guilty. 

"I'm sorry, Mommy. Ms Hemming told us last week not to forget about our excursion this weekend. I don't have school on Thursday and Friday…" 

Eyes too big for Mallory's face stared at us, her lower lip trembling. Riordan gave a very audible snicker and Rebecca shrugged. We'd forgotten Becca's excursion as well. Riordan made a comment about these lapses running in the family, what could poor Mallory expect? 

Chakotay looked like he could explode. He was scheduled to go white water rafting down the Colorado River with Tom, Harry and Magnus Rollins. He'd been looking forward to it for it was his weekend off. 

Suddenly the voice of my aide pricked my memory. A message from Mallory's school informing parents of their annual first graders father-daughter excursion. Damn! 

Dear Chakotay's anger was brief as he bent down and clutched Mallory's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. He was not going to let any other male relative or family friend accompany our daughter. Riordan and Rebecca had delivered quite exceptional reports and obtained almost full scores. He wanted the same for Mallory. There would always be another occasion to paddle down a river. 

"Honey, don't worry. Of course, I'm taking you. We're a team, right?" 

"Right!" 

It was remarkable how a child's unhappiness could vanish so quickly! 

Why did they go? Why? That was the question that had tormented me since that day, that even now managed to unsettle me despite my rational mind telling me that things happened outside our control. Was I supposed to question our destiny? Was it so inextricably tied to our lives that it was to be accepted and that we should simply move on from there? Someone once told me that we had the right to grieve, to rail at our misfortunes, for a while at least be angry at life, at the heavens, at all the deities.

 Chakotay and Mallory, off to Mars, doing the father-daughter thing which was part of her school assignment in which they had to complete at least two adventures. Return in three days and deliver your report, had been the instruction. Riordan and Rebecca had done the same thing and Riordan had been over the moon, literally, when he'd delivered his report to his teacher. They loved outdoor adventures and had climbed, jumped, dived and rowed from a very early age, along with the Paris children. 

There had been no reason to stress about safety. We had experienced dangerous situations in the Delta Quadrant a million times! 

 _I trusted you fully, Chakotay, as you took charge of our youngest, our sparkling daughter. Mallory was only six, a baby with glowing red cheeks and red pouting lips and innocent eyes! A three day trip to Mars to visit the caves to go spelunking. 'Routine' was written all over the excursion._  

"Mommy! I'll bring you a piece of Mars rock and maybe a bird fossil!" 

 _Bird fossil_? Was Mallory insane? Kids! 

"Thank you, honey. Now you go and be careful, okay?" 

"Don't worry, Mommy, I'll take care of Papa!" 

They'd stood in front of me with smiles as wide as the Grand Canyon, eyes lively, their intent solely on enjoyment. 

Why, oh, why did the fates strike us so? Were we too happy? Were we? Why did it torture me? Not a single, tiny signal of foreboding of the tragedy that unfolded on Mars, no strange feelings inside me that something could go wrong. No sense of doom, no message travelling on the airwaves towards me to warn that disaster lurked in a cave. 

I didn't feel a thing. Instead, I'd been at Palings visiting the Paris clan, watching the boys and Rebecca on their hover boards. Tom's mother had remarked how Riordan was growing out of his skin and Becks becoming prettier by the day. We laughed, had fun and engaged in animated, silly conversation. 

For the life of me I cannot remember to this day what Elizabeth Paris and I had talked about at that moment. We both looked up when Owen Paris walked towards us, his face grave, a whiteness around his lips grown stiff with some hidden message. The children all stopped, their ears pricked as they saw Owen Paris approach us.  I noticed Riordan taking his sister's hand, drawing her closer to him. I frowned, thinking that Owen had bad news for Elizabeth. My hand sought hers in an instinctive gesture of solace. 

But he'd turned to me… 

"Kathryn, could you come inside with me, please? There is something I need to tell you…" 

_I'm afraid there has been an accident on Mars…Chakotay and young Mallory…_

_Father in heaven, let me die too…_  

Through a blur of tears the cafeteria came into focus. Memories of that day trapped in that moment, too painful to retrieve further only to punish myself. I rubbed my eyes, furiously sweeping away any indication that I'd been crying, stifling a sob in the process. There was something in my eye, probably caused by wiping it. A tiny hair, maybe? So I tried blinking, using my finger to rub it out. Water would help, I supposed, but as I stood up from my table to walk to the counter… 

"Here, let me do that for you." 

The voice was deep, baritone, pleasurable, a certain reassurance about it that set me at ease, enough to trust him. He had a handkerchief in his hand and proceeded to remove the offending hair. I remembered how gentle his touch was, how it instilled an immediate restfulness in me! 

"It is a stray eyelash," he said when I could blink again with ease. 

Only then I had a look at the stranger as I sat down again at my table. 

"Thank you," I said, my voice a little wobbly. 

"You are most welcome." He looked around, then at me again. "The place is full. Please, may I?" he asked, indicating to a chair. 

"Oh. Do sit down. I've just been enjoying my second cup of Earl Grey." 

He sat in a chair opposite me and regarded me with clear liquid brown eyes that seemed to laugh, that invited a reciprocal response from anyone looking at him. In fact, his whole face looked as if he'd just enjoyed a good chuckle after hearing an amusing anecdote. He wasn't young, closer to my age, really. Sandy haired, an attractive kind of face, his skin very fair. Then he reached his hand across the table to greet me. 

"I'm David Cannon." 

"Oh, do forgive me! I'm Kathryn Janeway." 

Again the touch of his hand caused a ripple through me, his eyes fixed on mine. He seemed to draw me into his soul, I suppose. I had little time to consider what was happening at that moment, except that I felt, strangely, I could talk to him as if I'd known him in an alternate universe. 

We engaged in small talk. He told me he was waiting for his transport to take him in the opposite direction. Then he'd gotten up to order tea and what do you know, Chakotay? He ordered Earl Grey, same as my order! Was it just a coincidence? I wondered. 

"Are you teaching at the university?" I asked him.. 

"No. I'm a medical officer. I do surgical procedures at the great hospital of the city, on rotation every two weeks. What about you?" 

I wondered rather idly why David didn't recognise me as a former captain of Voyager, lost in the Delta Quadrant and later promoted to admiral upon our return. I know, I know! It was rather conceited to think like that. Perhaps because I was not in uniform, something upon which the university didn't insist, or perhaps too many years had passed and the ‘legend’ status had withered. So I wore modest ambassadorial day wear with only my commbadge as proof of my association with Starfleet Command.  

"The same, I suppose," I told him. "On loan from Earth's Starfleet Academy. I teach quantum physics at the university in the city. More like master classes. I enjoy it. Every fortnight - " 

Before he could speak again, a signal sounded. He glanced at the entrance. 

"My ride. See you next time," he said, looking a little disappointed that our conversation was ending so abruptly. Yet his voice remained jovial, and hopeful, I think. That thought only hit me later when I was safely back on the USS Clarion in my suite. By the time I reached home, David Cannon was forgotten as I lost myself in the happy reunion with you and the children. I told you about how my classes went, about the craft market, about a young Bolian student who could talk your ears right off your head without blinking. For while our household was normal again with all the subdued joy that could enliven our lives albeit briefly. 

Two weeks later I returned to Darayton II and I wondered if I'd meet David again. There was such a strange allure about him, like drawing one to invite confidences, like losing one's fear. 

I felt a sudden flutter in my bosom, frowning at the wonder of it. 

**************** 

 END CHAPTER 3

 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

I turned away from Chakotay's attempts at sexual intimacy. It was not so much disappointment, but more with an air of resignation that we were slowing down a lot sooner than I'd always expected. In the beginning, after the accident, I understood, I suppose. But hands, fingers and mouth that sought to mimic what I desired so fervently, that had once been the core of assuaging a raging hunger on most nights, could barely compensate. 

I knew that. Chakotay knew that. We tried. He tried. After weeks of internal struggle, manly pride made way for common sense and he'd seen Voyager's EMH.. Even so, after medication, Chakotay's, our tragedy, remained his mental block as he remembered the rock fall, his screams, his agony of loss. Sometimes we were intimate, the joy of being filled again, our bodies heaving in joyful surrender, moments we treasured. As the years rolled by, lovemaking lessened until they stopped. Eventually I crawled into my furrow on the bed, my back turned to my husband, his back turned to me. Some mornings I woke up in his arms, then I wondered if sex had been a dream, a mystical act through which I imagined it really happened. We'd kiss, trying to resurrect those heady days of making love. I'd cry. Sometimes he'd have tears in his eyes. 

I loved my husband. I loved my children. 

As I walked along the promenade of Darayton II's First City where their craft market was situated, these thoughts kept me preoccupied, supplanting ear worms I considered old friends, _Di rigori armato_ sung with throbbing lovelorn urgency by _The Italian tenor._ I strolled leisurely, thinking of what to get Riordan and Rebecca. In many ways they were still my little kids with undisguised curiosity when their mother came home with something for them. 

My lectures had gone very well the previous day. I had a short meeting with the dean of the faculty of science in which he couldn't stop thanking Starfleet for organising the masterclasses for one semester. But now I felt relieved and could browse around the market in a relaxed frame of mind. Business was done and pleasure beckoned. Still, it didn't prevent me from meandering to thoughts of home, of Chakotay, of being unsatisfied in bed when my body screamed for those releases. He felt it as keenly too, sighing as he offered a soft apology. There was physically nothing wrong with him now, no reason we couldn't enjoy a healthy sex life. Those times of sex were really too few and far between.  

"Well, well, this must be a good sign, Admiral. I was just thinking about you!" 

 _And I wasn't thinking about you…_  

I looked up to see David Cannon standing right next to me. I was so deep in thought I never noticed him there. My heart lurched for a second. The sun was behind him, his face in the glorious silhouette of light and a little shadowy. He smiled, a broad smile that seemed to encompass me and hug me to him. His face was clear, without the pinch of stress I sometimes noticed on Chakotay. David's open appearance, the ready laughter elicited a similar response from me. There was something irresistible about him, an invisible pull he exuded. I frowned at this, wondering for a moment that a stranger could have such a mesmerising influence on anyone. 

Did my mouth pull into a smile? It seemed so. 

"David!" 

"Good to see you, Admiral. Shopping around for gifts?" 

I held a gilt comb in my hand, shaking my head as I gazed up at him. Although I was not in uniform, he referred to me by my rank. It was no secret after all. 

"For the children." 

"Ah. I should have known. You wear a wedding band." 

Didn't he notice two weeks ago in the cafeteria? Although I never told him of my status, David came across as intuitive and perceptive. I think he knew very well, his statement merely to emphasise my status, and therefore his. 

He seemed to console by looking and a touch of his hand, by his smile that invited the recipient to smile back. He would know about Chakotay and the positions we hold in Starfleet Command, if he had done his research. He must have! So what? The incurably curious saw only the surface of our lives and nothing of what went on inside our home. Much of what happened that earth-shattering day and subsequent events were now classified, not available for daily viewing, unless a curious being accessed newsfeed archives. We'd received thousands of messages of sympathy. 

"Yes," I said. "What about you?" 

Of course I noticed his ring at our first inauspicious meeting. Were we just engaging in ridiculous teenage small talk? 

"Yes, I am married, Kathryn." 

"Children?" I asked, suddenly curious about his life. 

"Two boys and one girl. Nina is the eldest. She's eighteen and studying here at the university, still in her first year. You have children?" 

I nodded, then, "My…two are fourteen and twelve. A boy and girl." 

**** ****

 _Sitting across from you, Chakotay, and staring unseeingly into space, I pondered on that second meeting with David. My heart fluttered, you know? You're preoccupied with War and Peace and I'm agonising over my burgeoning emotions for another man. But I promised I'd tell it to you, if only in my mind, as heart-breaking as it is for me to admit being attracted to someone else. Right now I am so conflicted - I know absolutely where I stand with you and at the same time I have become a disciple to a man who made me laugh, reluctant to let go of it. Yet I must. I have!_  

David asked to join me on my excursion of the craft market. There were so many people I doubt whether anyone recognised me, for it had been my initial apprehension. What they saw were two people, not that young anymore, enjoying animated conversation and assuming we were married to one another. There were always niggling doubts that at times during our walk when my guilt swelled that I was enjoying myself with someone who was not my husband. 

"Shall we sit down somewhere?" David asked and I, feeling for once a thrill of enjoyment, agreed. 

It was just a casual acquaintance, wasn't it? No harm talking to another man on a far-off homeworld, right? But every time I broke out in a smile, I thought of you, Chakotay, of how we'd become so courteous with one another. At first I was wracked by guilt that I could smile, but it tapered into twinges until they were practically gone and I could be uninhibited in my enjoyment. 

David guided me to a bench under  a tree with very large fronds that fanned over the seat like a giant umbrella. It shielded us from people who passed along the walkways, allowing us a measure of privacy. David and I talked, about our work, mainly, careful not to mention personal things about our families -  husband, wife, children. He knew my husband was Admiral Chakotay attached to Starfleet Command, sometimes professor at the Academy teaching advanced flight maneuvers to senior cadets, no more than that. I simply enjoyed David's openness, the way he held my gaze when he spoke. I was the sole focus of his attention. It was like fresh, cleansing rain on my battered emotions, a salve that eased the pain of our scars. 

"Have you been to the Rondaksian Museum yet?" David asked. 

I shook my head. "I have yet to visit the other places of interest," I told him. "I only just got here, you know?" 

"Would - would you mind very much if I showed you around? he asked, an expectant look in his eyes. He seemed afraid I would turn down his offer. It didn't take me half a minute to respond to his request. Besides, he sounded as if he knew the First City very well. It wouldn't hurt to be accompanied by one who seemed to know the city well. 

"I would very much love to, David." 

"What are we waiting for?" 

He stood up, grasped my hand in his and guided me away from the crowded market, away from the bench with the umbrella fronds. I was eager to go with him! Yet, the unease about what I was allowing to happen rushed back with force. While walking next to David, my mind drifted in odd moments to my life on Earth, to Chakotay. How he looked after the accident, the shuttered eyes whenever I tried to initiate intimacy. 

_Fill me, Chakotay…to the hilt. I want to feel you hard and strong inside me…_

_God, Kathryn…I can't, can't…_

_There is nothing wrong with you, my love. Doctor said you're healed. We are killing ourselves. I need your touches._

_I keep thinking, of her, Kathryn. I'm sorry, so sorry._

_Try, please! I love you!_

I must have given a little cry of distress for David stopped abruptly. I didn't even realise he was holding my hand, that he had been doing so since we left the umbrella bench. 

"Anything the matter? You look pale," he said. 

I had to look up at him, his face cast in the shadow with the sun behind him. 

I quickly recovered, giving a tight little smile. "No, nothing, I'm fine." 

"Good, I don't wish to see you sad with that little droop to your mouth." 

"There was a droop to my mouth?" 

"Oh, yes. Were you thinking of all those species you encountered in the Delta Quadrant? 

For once I was glad he was wrong. Of course he knew about Voyager's exploits in the Delta Quadrant. Silly, stupid really, to have forgotten how everyone in Federation space was a DNA strand away from being known to everyone else. I thought of some of the horrible viruses we encountered, of Neelix and the _Tak Tak_ race, how my greeting wronged them by standing hands on my hips. According to Neelix I had insulted them with that stance. I gave a low chuckle. Sometimes I missed Neelix! 

"Ah, it's good to see you laugh!" 

"We just met, David!" 

Oh, why was it so easy to laugh now? 

"I feel I've known you much longer, Kathryn. Can that be possible?" 

A flash and I was back in my bedroom, Chakotay making love to me with his hands, his mouth, his fingers, eventually sinking his flesh into me. Then it was over so quickly! I lay exhausted after fantasising myself into an orgasm. Chakotay rolling away, shame in his eyes he couldn't conceal from me. Sporadic sex which fizzled as quickly as it started. Eventually we had stopped, some months ago. I still yearn for him to fill me with the abandon I know we're both capable of! 

"Kathryn…hey…" 

I rocked back to see David's concerned look again. Then I promised myself I'd simply enjoy being with him and not let thoughts of chronically ineffective lovemaking throw me for a loop again. 

David and I visited the museum and we spent quite some time there, admiring the art and culture of Darayton. Later in the afternoon I went back to my room to collect my small overnight bag and headed for the Koreda Transport station. David had an apartment to which he had gone to collect his things. An hour before our transports arrived, we met again in the cafeteria, quietly enjoying our tea. We found how we both enjoyed Earl Grey. They had replicators too, didn't I know? He'd given me a humorous grin when he said that. Of course, his homeworld was a member of the Federation and would share technology. 

"Tell me about your wife?" I asked him, forgetting that we'd promised not to delve into our private lives. 

He reached across the table and touched my hand. His hand seemed to radiate an inner glow, breathing life force into me, thrilling, from my fingers into my hair ends, my whole body. I'd tried to ignore it earlier in the day when we sat on our umbrella bench and he'd pulled me up to accompany me to the museum. My breathing quickened and I could swear I was blushing, my face felt so heated. Like an oracle his touch stilled the storms in me, allowed me to explore, if tentatively, the sunshine that had been gone from my life for three years. 

David was just as aware of the effect his touch had on me, for he didn't release my hand and I was reluctant to pull away. 

"My wife," he began slowly, "is kind and loving. Her name is T'rina and she's a nursing officer at the hospital on Padnog IV, where we have made our home. She - she is half-Vulcan, half-human. I guess I can say our children are a quarter Vulcan." 

I nodded sagely. A shadow crossed David's features, albeit very briefly. If there were things that troubled his household, then I didn't want to know. I wondered whether theirs was a happy marriage, his wife being half Vulcan and Vulcans not given to over exuberance of emotions. Scrap the thought! I admonished myself instantly. Of course David was happily married. Did he not have such an open countenance, a smiling face with laugh lines along his eyes? 

"Love is never in question," I told him, feeling a little wretched suddenly, thinking of Chakotay's devotion to me. 

"No, it is never," David responded. "Look, let us not be sad, okay?" 

Then he squeezed my hand. What was happening? The radiance lingered in me and I found myself enjoying David's company. I shrugged off the sadness and began chuckling like mad. He had that effect on people, I suppose. The moment he began laughing, one couldn't help laughing along. 

"Thank goodness, you're smiling now. How are the children?" 

"They're enjoying school," I told him. "Riordan is at university - " 

"Didn't you say he's _fourteen_?" 

"I did. Our son is an academic prodigy. He started university at eleven years. He'll do two more years of a five year masters programme before joining Starfleet Academy. His decision." 

David nodded. His glowing hand released mine suddenly. He didn't have to say anything. Neither did I. But it was in my thoughts, as I was quite certain in his too - I liked David and he liked me. I felt good in those moments because for one whole day I felt special, really wanted. I didn't want the moment to end, but it had to. There was no agenda other than enjoying each other's company. The mainstay in my life was always Chakotay who knew me like no other, who remained by my side through sickness and health. 

As I pulled back my hand, the light from the cafeteria created a shimmer on my wedding band. A timely reminder when I gazed at my ring. I noticed David's ring too, perhaps not as ornate as mine and Chakotay's. But it brought me back to reality - a droop to my mouth, a flash of a marriage bed, a husband who had stopped trying, but who loved me. I had to keep reminding myself that I had a good marriage. It was a great one to begin with and destiny, although it wreaked havoc with our lives, filtered it to one in which my husband and I kept up appearances to the outside world. I loved Chakotay fiercely in those moments I sat opposite David Cannon, waiting for my transport to arrive. 

Whatever happened, I had to stay focused on my own life, our marriage which, despite our problems, was a happy one. We had two unbelievable young teens who held us as the mainstays and role models in their lives. I would be a fool to destroy my happiness with the only man in the entire universe who understood me like no one else. 

But David's eyes were on me. We'd forgotten the patrons who marched in and out of the café. Their faces faded into anonymity as his eyes remained on me. 

"Please," David said softly, "I would like to see you again next fortnight. Please?" 

And even though David was completely serious, the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth all but absorbed the sudden candour with which he regarded me. He was waiting for my response. It was in the way his breathing quickened, the sudden glance towards the exits where the first transport was arriving already. My tea had gone cold by then. 

Oh, dear, beloved Chakotay… 

"Yes," I said. "I would very much like to meet you again." 

************ 

I sat in the shuttle imagining people staring at me and I felt I couldn't hide the flush on my face. But for once I didn't care. I was to meet David again, even as I was on my way home to a normal life, family and Starfleet Command. David awoke something in me that had been shut down a long time. It was beginning to bubble to the surface again. I couldn't help it! It was an exciting prospect to live out the next two weeks in the thrilling knowledge that I would meet him again, learn to laugh without the tight cord of guilt eating into my skin. 

But Earth beckoned. Indiana had been my heimat while we fought our way back from the farthest reaches in the Delta Quadrant. It was the one place where I dreamed of being when I returned home, for Indiana was my Eden, my perfect place, my peace. And Chakotay was there. 

The children were happy to see me again and Chakotay greeted me with his usual effusive "I missed you!" after which an almost chaste kiss followed. I was home again and happy to be with my family, David forgotten. 

The next two weeks went by in a flash. Chakotay had given me a few searching glances, followed by heavy frowning. 

"You look different, Kathryn. Happy. Something about your eyes. A new light in them." 

I  couldn't disillusion him! He looked so patently innocent as he spoke. What could I tell him? I met a man who cleared a stray eyelash hair from my eye, sat down and had Earl Grey tea with me? A man who held my hand as we sat under our umbrella bench, who accompanied me to the museum, a man who made me laugh? 

"I really am enjoying teaching at the university," I told him truthfully. It was the truth! I found engaging with students in a different scenario than the formalised and strict Academy with extraordinary enthusiasm. They challenged me and remained afterwards to discuss various aspects of my lectures. I really loved it and would continue for another semester if asked. I realised how Owen Paris was right in suggesting the posting to Darayton. I felt inspired, the old excitement at walking into a class at the Academy so very thrilling. I was eager to return to Darayton II. 

Chakotay smiled, the one I had come to expect - a little afraid of laughing or chuckling too loudly, as if it was sacrilege to do so. 

"Then I am glad, my love." 

Our work at Headquarters was done for the weekend, the children had gone to spend time with Miral and the boys and little Lainey at Palings. We would only resume new strategies and planning for the NUFP in the following week. 

"It's opening night at the Met for a new production of _Rigoletto_ ," Chakotay said, looking very hopeful. 

"I know. We can't waste our season tickets." 

We visited the Metropolitan Opera regularly, and the children seemed to enjoy _La Traviata_ and _La Bohéme._ Lately we went alone, Riordan and Rebecca too busy with studies. 

"Did you know our EMH has suddenly developed a baritone's voice? He'll be using the voice of the great Leo Nucci of the 20th century Zurich Opera!" I told him. 

"He's no longer Jonas Kaufmann?" Chakotay sounded quite surprised. 

"Leo it is, my love. Great baritone too." 

We went that Friday night. I loved the production, always loved the tragic story of a father who loved his daughter so much he was willing to kill the man who defiled her. In the end it was Gilda who died by a cruel twist of circumstance. Chakotay sat quietly next to me enjoying the singing in the great opera house, especially when the Duke - played by an Equinox crewmember Angelo Tassoni - sang his famous _Parme veder le Lagrime_ with immense tenderness. Angelo called it the duke's three and a half minutes of honesty, that a girl very nearly changed the man he was. From time to time Chakotay looked at me, his eyes warm, the old message in them - tonight's the night! A sudden warmth overwhelmed me, a thrill coursing through my body as I pictured us writhing in bed later that night. 

_Do you remember that night, Chakotay? We came home from the opera, to our nest we'd created in Indiana. I wore a new evening gown that Pierre had created and which I never did wear until opening night. Creamy texture of Thai silk in burgundy. You loved the dress. You'd decided to be seen as Admiral Chakotay in dress uniform and I simply your wife Mrs Janeway. We'd gamely endured sympathetic glances from concertgoers who knew us and the tragedy that marked our lives. For one evening we recreated the old magic, the breathless, giddy expectation of how our night would end. A man with a smiling, open face was forgotten for the moment!_

_I loved you that night, Chakotay, as much as you loved me! It didn't matter that your hardness was so brief, but satisfying. You did pleasure me and I was grateful for that. I cried a little and you also sobbed a few times. It was exquisite, our intimacy that night, where we were almost afraid to spoil everything by talking about it.  But we both knew it would be many weeks before it would happen again._

_The next morning we spent in companionable silence, our beloved music playing in the background. It was Chopin's Violin Concerto that I remember, with its beautiful larghetto movement, haunting melody that tugs at my heart strings. You were busy with your latest sand painting and I was working on the first drafts of a new set of lectures for the University of Darayton. From time to time as I glanced up, it was always catching you staring at me, with that little scared-afraid half-smile that made your mouth so beautiful and the creases down your cheeks so endearing._

_What were you thinking at that moment, my love? Of the previous night when we had made love and although it was not all we wanted it to be, it was enough? Did you wonder when the next time would be for us to sparkle out of control?_

_Please, please, don't be so disconsolate! We have a happy marriage, built upon trust and devotion. I returned your smile and you seemed happy and reassured that our world had righted itself on its axis._

"I'm leaving on Tuesday for Darayton II," I said conversationally. 

_You looked up. The music changed. "Au fond du temple saint" from Bizet's Pearl Fishers played in the background. It was beautiful music, a famous "friendship" duet - two men vying for one woman. I thought how ironic that was. Did you catch the significance? I didn't think so, because you don't know that David Cannon exists, that another seeks my friendship. Yet, there was always that tiny sliver of doubt as you gazed at me, as if you didn't believe that I was working while away!_

_If only you knew!_

"Then I'll see you on Thursday night." 

We fell into our silences again. I didn't want to look at your new work, because I'd sensed that once again, our little Mallory was the inspiration for it. You always stack them away neatly as if you're unwilling to look at them again. "Until one, day, Kathryn, when I can bear to look at it again…" It was your way of dealing with trauma. Mine? I'd done all my screaming at my altar of pain - a lone grave near the stream on the farm, cold, cold grave.  

I had meetings with B'Elanna, Tom and Seven of Nine. Annika Hansen as she preferred to be called these days had finally accepted that Chakotay could never belong to her and transferred her affections to Harry Kim. "I must have always loved Harry, Admiral. I just lost it for a while there on Voyager." Now they formed a valuable team working on warp drive and other elements critical for Federation expansion. I had a near confrontation with my mother who complained she didn't see enough of us. Living these days in Paris with the man she married shortly after our return from the Delta Quadrant, she was far from ailing, something she'd impressed on the grandchildren - mine and Phoebe's. Phoebe had married while we were away. Erin was a senior at the Academy; the twins, Edward and Adam inherited their mother's talent for fine art and were both studying in Paris.  

A two hour meeting with Admiral Paris left me exhausted, since I'd crammed all work lost on the days I was away into one week. Still, it was important. We needed ambassadors to represent the Federation in the Delta Quadrant and the list was getting longer instead of shorter. But it was good to make sure there were no loose ends before I left for Darayton II. 

"Anything I can get for you while I'm there, Chakotay?" I asked him while I waited for my transport to take me to Earth's Orbital Station. 

"Just for yourself to be happy, Kathryn…" 

He looked sad, sober, as if he feared I might never return. I hugged him tightly and promised to get him samples of Darayton's sand and clay for his painting projects. 

*****

  **Darayton II**  

Classes had gone better than expected. I even tolerated Nala the young Bolian's incessant chatter. Since she was talking a lot of sense around interaction of quarks in chromodynamics, I didn't halt the runaway train, though it was hard on my ears. Riordan had grasped the subject with ridiculous ease in his first year at James T. Kirk University. My philosophy was that the students all get there eventually to achieve certain levels of success. My son was an exception who remained remarkably humble. Rebecca's school wanted her in an accelerated programme; Chakotay and I decided against it. She was happy proceeding normally with her class mates. 

It was all theory and it energised me, sharpened my thinking processes. Nala was among the top students in her class. Maybe it was just her habit of talking fast. I remembered how Chell couldn't stop talking much on Voyager. I lectured three classes again and agreed to sit in on one of the lectures by a Vulcan professor. It was riveting stuff  that had me thinking of introducing a similar exchange programme for the Academy and universities on Earth and its neighbouring worlds. I liked professor Kal'pur and made a note to invite him to Starfleet Academy. 

"And Admiral, did Admiral notice how quickly one grasped the secrets of quarks once they took on certain colours? I didn't think it would be so uncomplicated to understand it, see, Admiral? But Admiral, Admiral made it _sound_ easy. You explained it so well, I believe you to be the greatest professor. Well, Professor Kal'pur is also good, but he never smiles!" 

I tried to raise my hand to get Nala to breathe at least, but for a minute or so she continued expounding the properties of good and great teachers and professors. It was getting on towards evening, I was hungry, and the replicator in my special quarters in the university administrators' dorm awaited me. I craved pasta, portobellini mushrooms, coffee for once and a completely decadent, sinful-to-eat sweet dessert. 

When I could finally escape from the students and especially Nala, I hastened to my quarters where I would be spending the night before leaving in the morning with a whole day free to do as I liked. 

I sat down to eat, enjoyed my meal, the one I'd been fantasising about the entire day. I wondered whether I'd see David the next day. Would he be true to his word? I liked his company, the uncomplicated way he conversed with me, never delving into my life. I preferred not to know too much about his home life either. What was I entertaining? Enjoying the company of another man? He was uncomplicated, laughed when he found something funny, injected humour so that I couldn't help smiling. Here on Darayton it was possible to entertain things untoward, to put aside moral strictures. David enchanted, I think, his presence and voice mesmerising. I wanted that, craved to have fun bubbling inside me again. Yet, very deep down, I could hear the voice of my conscience, my Chakotay's eyes, face, voice that kept me grounded. I was afraid of the tenuous hold I had on that reality. 

 _Kathryn, it's Chakotay and Mallory. There has been an accident. Seismic activity on Mars caused a rock fall in the caverns…_  

That was the moment I prostrated myself before my altar where every candle was a Klingon pain stick that lanced and burned my insides. Painsticks that blinded me, blinding flashes where I saw Mallory, little, tiny six year old Mallory, our youngest child, lying under a pile of rocks. I tried to picture her broken body, and unable to visualize that scene, I began to scream. Someone held me - was it Elizabeth Paris? But Owen wasn't finished. 

 _Mallory didn't make it. I am so sorry, Kathryn. Two other children and their fathers died as well._  

Already blinded by my grief, flung unceremoniously into a maelstrom of unending sorrow, I couldn't function for several minutes. Elizabeth pressed me down on the couch, while Owen bent in front of me. 

Then another thought hit me as I gazed with growing terror into Admiral Paris' face. 

And Chakotay? What of Chakotay? The question tumbled from my lips, hot tears falling to the floor. 

_Chakotay may not live. We are so sorry. So very sorry…_

As the memories of the accident, of Mallory's death and Chakotay in a coma, hit me, I didn't realise how I was sobbing while eating crème brulee. 

The Paris family and my mother and sister had become my saviours in the weeks following the accident. I wanted to go to Mars, to the scene of the tragedy. They told me it would be folly to go, that seeing where they died would only increase my agony. I felt they treated me like a dainty little thing unable to withstand the heart-breaking knock life gave me. Wasn't I Voyager's captain? Didn't we encounter tragedies and all manner of adversity, didn't I lose valued crewmembers that brought me to tears many times? If I could command my vessel with distinction and valour, why could I not look upon my dead daughter's face, or see the place where she died? 

Suddenly the agony and grief afflicting others became mine and I railed against the heavens at losing a beloved child, at the terrifying thought of losing a husband and father. 

Still, as if to add to my punishment, to sting me harder, deeper, I wanted to see Mallory. 

"I need to see her, Owen." 

They cautioned me about viewing Mallory's body. But I'd insisted. Owen Paris, my mother and the EMH stayed by my side. 

"Admiral, be warned…" 

I looked at our little girl, crushed under rock, yet her face appeared unmarked, serene in the force of her  violent death. How could she look so peaceful? My face crumpled and I threw myself over her and sobbed heartbrokenly. I heard voices behind me, distant voices they seemed, hands trying to pull me back, but I couldn't let go of Mallory as I began rocking. Eventually they let me be and waited until I stopped crying. I stood up and stared one last time at our little girl, gone from us too soon. 

"Her face… Why - ?" I began, demented with grief. 

"She was still tethered to her father, Admiral," the EMH explained. "It seems Admiral Chakotay tried to shield her with his body, as did other victims of the accident." 

One day, I swore I'd let Chakotay know he tried to save our little girl's life. I went to the ward where Chakotay lay, Riordan insisting that he wanted to be by his father's side. It was so difficult coming to terms with what had happened and to comfort Riordan and Rebecca who walked around stunned and unhappy. 

"What will we do now, Mom?" Rebecca asked. 

I didn't know how to answer them. Too many questions from everyone - Owen Paris, Elizabeth, my mother, Phoebe, some crew still working on Earth, my aide Prakash whose support I will never forget. They wanted to know about burials, memorial services, I had to respond to questions about Chakotay's condition and treatment. I felt like a headless chicken, direction-less. I was no stranger to loss, so why did Mallory's death and Chakotay's coma hit me so hard? 

Too many things until my mother simply bundled me off to bed, administered a sedative and declared it was time she took care of me again. She'd take care of the children. I sank into oblivion that very night when I thought I was going to die myself. Even now, I wonder if Chakotay and I, Riordan and Rebecca will ever recover fully. Our daughter's room has remained untouched since her death. 

We buried Mallory while Chakotay remained in a coma, critical for weeks after the fall in the cave on Mars. I was blinded by sorrow, with two children who were as broken by the tragic events - losing a little sister and the terror of losing their father. Were it not for family - my own, and former Voyager crew, the Paris family who carried us over those first months, I would have remained in my hell. 

Chakotay recovered, but how? 

 A team of medical personnel that included Tom's mother, Beverly Crusher and Voyager's EMH patched  him up, bone by agonising bone. His pelvic region shattered, deep head trauma, fractures of every bone in his body - Chakotay was a broken doll literally sewn together. I was called to Starfleet Medical the day, almost two weeks after Mallory's burial, when Chakotay was about to be brought out of his coma. My heart thudded with fear and anticipation, not knowing how he would react. 

And then he woke up. One question on his lips…  "Where is Mallory?" 

_Kyrie, eleison._

_Lord have mercy._  

Rocking to the present, I was glad of light and four bright walls that surrounded me. Wall hangings appeared through a blur of tears. Hyperventilating like during those first months, I tried to suppress my mushrooming grief by taking deep breaths. My spoon clattered to the floor, though I was hardly aware of clutching my bosom. I was momentarily overwhelmed by excruciating  pain which slowly subsided before morphing into a dull throb until it began easing away.

It was a relief when my breathing normalised. Right at that moment my vidcom beeped. Frowning, I walked into the tiny alcove where I'd stationed my vidcom and PADDS, switching it on as I sat down on the chair. A familiar face by now… 

"David? How?" 

And, it was silly to even ask. I was Admiral Janeway. All he had to do was… 

"Hello, Kathryn." 

Still, did he sense I was disconsolate? His eyes were clear, sparkling it seemed, and his voice very welcome in my brief plunge into darkness.

"David…" My own voice lowered a register, became hoarse as I regarded him, my gloom lifting. Instantly my concern about decorum surfaced. My family, Chakotay… "Why are you contacting me this way? Please, I -" 

"I thought I'd remind you of our outing tomorrow. I thought you might forget. You do look like you're in need of diversion." 

Did he have some sixth sense about my innermost demons? Did my face give me away? I hadn't forgotten about the outing, not really. 

You are married, Kathryn Janeway, I admonished myself, to the kindest man in the universe. He doesn't deserve this. Tell David. Tell him! Don't meet him! It will be your undoing! But my traitorous heart said something else. 

"Just tomorrow, okay?" I said. "We are both married, David." 

My voice sounded feeble, without the punch and strength I promised myself to withstand his soft persuading. 

"Tomorrow at the market?" he asked as if he didn't hear my objection. "Please? I must see you…" 

I hesitated before answering. Chakotay at home, hopeful that we could be supremely happy again. Riordan and Rebecca who looked up to us, their guiding light and role models. I couldn't do this to them. But… 

"Yes. At the market…" 

****************

 END CHAPTER 4


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, do let me know your thoughts on this chapter.

* * *

I was surprised that David had contacted me the previous night. These thoughts troubled me as I had felt that he should not communicate via vidcom at all. It was enough that I would see him anyway. He had been earnest in his desire to contact me and any notion that he might develop more serious feelings towards me was shelved as unwanted, unnameable. I didn't dare entertain any notion as to his true intent. Already it left my insides burning just thinking that I was attracted to him. 

How could it happen? I didn't really know him, and maybe I didn't want to know about his past, his family. Perhaps it was the fantasy of it all that attracted me to him. At home a husband waited who seemed 'normal' by comparison. I was by no means a dowdy housewife waiting for excitement in her life, something quite absent. But Chakotay and I didn't sink into dullness by design. Our terrible tragedy, our failed attempts to resurrect the sunshine and enjoyment brought us to that point. Owen Paris, I realise now, was right - we needed the smiles again. 

David Cannon, a medical officer suddenly presented a thrilling alternative which prompted a sense of wariness in me. I liked him, but did I want more than that? So I decided to meet him, to explore the city and keep my distance. Yes, I would do that.

The day had turned out sunny with quite high temperatures. I'd dressed lightly to walk the market and at the first opportunity had purchased a wide brimmed straw sun hat with raw edges so that the sun left little streaky shadows on my face. I loved the covering immediately, thinking that a number of stalls catered generously for the fifteen percent humans of the planet's population.  I got something for Chakotay and the kids, thinking to store my duffel at the Koreda Station later. I was stupid to haul it everywhere with me, especially when I had to meet David. 

He was running late anyway so I took the opportunity to store my belongings at the station, then I made my way back towards the craft market. I headed directly for our umbrella bench situated nearby. Already it had become "our" bench, with the imposing tree behind it and its giant fronds shielding anyone sitting there from either rain or sun. I sat down, not really too concerned about whether he'd come because he promised that he would. David didn't strike me as the kind who would break a promise. I thought how Chakotay never reported late for duty on Voyager, always immaculately groomed so early in Alpha shift, never with the intention of making an impression on me. It was just the way he was then, smelling of sea breeze even in his rugged Maquis gear. In an idyllic setting he'd told me an old legend and he promised to be by my side forever… Chakotay, always my constant, always _there_. 

The thing about waiting for anyone is that it allows one time to mull over inconsequential things, stewing in one's anger, or blaming the latecomer for being tardy or indulging in the self-pitying might-have-beens or perhaps even engaging in recollecting the hell one had been in for a long time. I got the worse end of those ruminations when hell rose up in my consciousness with little respect for my personal resolve to keep Chaos at bay. 

_Kathryn, Chakotay is dying…_

_Is there nothing you can do, Doctor? Don't let him die on me! Don't Fix him!_

_Talk to him, Admiral. Let him hear your voice…_

_And tell him Mallory is dead?_  

_Mallory was anchored to Chakotay's harness, Kathryn._

_Seismic activity caused a rock fall._

_According to witnesses he tried to save several children._

_Every bone in his body shattered._

_Mallory…Mallory is gone, Chakotay…_

Mallory who looked like her father - raven hair flowing down her back, dark eyes, tanned skin and dimples. Almost nothing in physical appearance to me. She was bright, developing, like her siblings, a keen sense for the sciences and mathematics, anthropology, dinosaurs. She loved dinosaurs! Totally adorable, loved by everyone, organised her own birthday party and we just had to fall in with her arrangements. Indiana overrun by children and Chakotay… Chakotay! Indulgent father who looked completely silly playing clown. The children running to him to ask questions, answering them with the greatest patience in the world. Sometimes I thought Chakotay loved Mallory more than he loved Riordan and Rebecca. But that was just me thinking unthinkable things. Chakotay was the last person in the universe to favour one child over another. 

Riordan was loved. Rebecca was loved. Mallory was loved. 

Mallory is dead. Sometimes I just want to punish myself. 

It hurts, it hurts so much! 

I wanted to wallow in memories, to keep my little girl alive in a realm where she dwelled as a healthy and incredibly clever and sparkling child. 

One day, long before Mallory was born - Riordan was just a little toddler  -  we'd walked the property, paused a kilometre downstream where a giant poplar grew that seemed to dwarf anyone standing under it. In my grandmother's time it was still a young sapling, planted about two hundred metres from the stream, like a sentry watching over the land. I remembered asking her how tall the tree would grow. Grandma had given me a surprised look and replied by raising her arms to the heavens. I was a child thinking that the tree would touch the sky. Chakotay's arm encircled my waist and I leaned against him, so happy, so happy! Then he'd dropped kisses in my hair before pointing to the ground under the tree. 

"Have you ever thought of a graveyard on this property, Kathryn? This tree seems a perfect place to have one." 

"Daddy was buried at the Starfleet Memorial Cemetery. Mom requested it." 

"And you, Kathryn? What did you want?" 

"I was in no state at the time to make any demands or requests, my love."

 _Do you remember that day we walked near the giant poplar, Chakotay? Of course you do. On Voyager I'd told you how my father and fiancé died, how the trauma left me depressed for months, how I couldn't think straight. I used to visit Daddy's grave often when I returned from missions._  

"It would make a fine graveyard. Just under the tree. For the family," I said. 

"It's perfect, Kathryn,"  you told me, hugging me even closer to you. 

"I hope we don't get to use it anytime soon," I'd said reflectively. 

 _It rained the day we buried Mallory_  

_She lies under the giant poplar…_

_Oh, Lord, have mercy!_

_Chakotay lies over the grave, screaming Mallory's name._

The bench creaked under the weight that descended on it. I looked up, disturbed at the intrusion into my dark meanderings. David was staring at me, frowning. Without saying a word, he brushed the dampness from my cheeks. I thought illogically about the white handkerchief he used to wipe an eyelash hair from my eyes. But the memory of a lost daughter fought with seeing David's friendly face through a haze of pain. 

"Must have been a bad memory, Kathryn." 

I didn't want him knowing and worrying about my traumas, so I gave a watery smile because I was glad to see him. He could take my mind off things, I guessed, dispel the gloom that had filtered into my body. How was it when my world crashed about me, the rest of the world carried on living? Could they be so happy when all our hopes were ripped from us and lay shattered on Mars? David didn't need to know. He was the bringer of the sun in his land of smiles. He sensed the sorrow in me, asked no questions but simply touched my cheek. Like mist in the sun, my gloom lifted. Was that his mission, sent by an unknown force to lift one's spirits? 

Another inward cry of pain, of wishing Chakotay could be my bringer of the sun. 

"It's gone now. I'm glad you came." My hell was slipping away quietly and like a good dog had gone into its kennel to rest. 

"I was held up at the hospital, "David explained. "Some tricky procedure on one of Darayton's locals that took some time. All I could think of was you waiting for me here at this bench. Now, are you ready?" 

"Where are we going?" 

"You'll see!" he said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me gently along. 

_I'm married, David and so are you!_

Why was it that David didn't seem to care? Was he a true free spirit, a medical practitioner who also infected people with humour and laughter? All he had to do was touch, say something inconsequential and funny, and one couldn't help being swept along. Was he sent to Darayton to find the downtrodden, the grieving, the hopeless and bring light into their lives, bring them a little cheer so that they could, for a short while at least, feel upliftment? 

I followed David, trusting that he knew the city and its surrounds well. As long as he kept his distance, I was okay. I could truthfully tell Chakotay that I had a really great tour guide. That idea appealed more to me, made everything appear for all the world very innocent. At the back of my mind there was always home, husband and children, my life, my reality, my ultimate peace. But, I was as curious as the next person to see the sights of the city. 

Darayton II displayed many of the geographical features of some of the M-class worlds we'd encountered in the Delta Quadrant. Rivers and lakes abounded on all four continents and there were few natural springs such as Earth boasted and which had become protected sites. Around the springs, whole towns and resorts had been established, making Darayton II and its first city a sought after holiday destination. 

Its inhabitants  had the appearance of the Ocampa. In fact, one of the students in my class looked a lot like Kes. I remembered during my first lecture that I actually stared at her where she sat in the first row. They don't possess the telepathic abilities of the Ocampa, though. 

It seemed David was leading me away from the resorts. We had less than a day to explore and avoided the more populated places. He knew the planet and its tourist attractions much better than I, even though Chakotay had researched a number of them that I could visit. But admiring something alone was never as good as when you had company. It was like having a conversation with yourself. 

"A river?" I asked as I gazed at the gleaming water that flowed quietly towards the coast. I was breathless and gripped by sudden excitement. 

"Not just any river, Kathryn," David replied. "Its fish swim quite close to the surface. You'll see once we're in the boat." 

I noticed that there were not many people around. A sudden flash of a river on New Earth that Chakotay had shown me, and the boat he'd planned to take us downstream. He never did get to build the boat. An idyll lost in the subsequent years on Voyager until the final year… In my Indiana home hologram, when Chakotay and I sat in front of the great hearth, listening to music - a Chopin nocturne - he'd turned to me, a look in his eyes that had made my heart lurch wildly.

_"I still have the plans for the boat I wanted to build," he'd said quietly._

_"Will you build it for me, one day, Chakotay, when we get home?"_

Chakotay had taken my hand and brought it to his lips.

_"I promise, Kathryn." His eyes had closed at the words, a far off memory floating quietly between us. My heart overflowed._

_"I love you, Chakotay…"_  

"Hey…" 

"Sorry. Just drifted for a moment. So tell me about the river?" 

"We get to hire a little boat over there. Once we're out on the water the fish create a…well, let's see," David said, pointing to a tiny jetty where a boat lay anchored. "Ours for the afternoon, Kathryn." 

I was filled with an instant disquiet, hovering between the thrill of going with David and the twinge of guilt that I was being unfaithful. 

"David…" I began feebly, "you are married. I am married. I have children. We cannot. I cannot - " 

I pulled physically away from him. His eyes were so earnest as he regarded me. Did they swell into a glow that felt abnormal? Like an oracle ready to infect me with good or bad news, or make me feel better? It drew me in, inexorably close to danger. But the thrill inside persisted, warring with decorum and everything that screamed fidelity. Somewhere deep inside of me, Chakotay's voice sounded, calling me to the surface, cautioning against folly. 

I felt a warmth creeping into my bosom. I was losing the fight to withstand his charm, his lack of guile which perplexed me further. Did he not worry about his family as I was worrying about mine? Why was he so unconcerned? I was left with the distinct feeling that I did not know this man well. Yet, the charm was irresistible. 

"We can't deny what is happening to us, Kathryn. I am falling in love with you. It's useless to deny it. Please…" 

Then he leaned down to me, his face blocking the sun. He lifted away my wide-brimmed straw hat, let it drop to hang over my shoulders. 

He is going to kiss me, I thought with wonder and I have no willpower to resist the coming onslaught. A subtle woodsy cologne - was it sandalwood? - teased my nostrils and filled my being. David's mouth descending  on my waiting, parted lips, coming every closer... 

At the last moment I drew away. The sandalwood smell changed to seabreeze and a blinding flash of Chakotay leaning down to kiss me in a forest glade on New Earth. I cannot deny that I wanted to feel David's lips on mine, but folly beckoned and common-sense had to prevail. I wanted the warmth and heady bliss of Chakotay's lips on mine, not David's. 

"We - we cannot, you understand? It is not right, David. Why do you persist?" 

He looked disappointed as he ran his tongue over his lips. When he tried to hold my hand, I was very reluctant to comply. I couldn't ever let him kiss me, nor even hold my hand! His feelings were his responsibility, not mine. I wanted to withdraw, run back to the transport station and wait out the hours for my transport to arrive. 

"I apologise for trying to kiss you, Kathryn, but  I cannot lie about how I feel." 

I wanted to tell him I didn't care how he felt as long as he didn't do more than hold my hand. I wanted to row on the river, see the fish that swam so close to the surface. So he rowed, movements more chaste than I really wanted. There were moments that I felt a thrill of being with David, and I'd be instantly beset by doubt and guilt that I was enjoying myself when I should be lying over a grave weeping hard tears. 

"I'm sorry. I - we must go. I can't do this, David." 

"I love you, Kathryn…" 

His plea sounded so engaging. If I were a young woman with no other romantic attachments, I could fall for David. I could respond to his declaration by saying, "I love you too." But I didn't, I simply felt a strange, almost alien kind of attraction. I would be a prize fool to mistake it for love, even if I weren't married. But David was so uncomplicated, without baggage, always just longing to be with me, to touch me often, to hold me in his arms. And I resisted those touches, simply wanting to enjoy my excursion. 

 _That boat ride should never have happened, Chakotay. I see you turn page after page of your book, yet you constantly glance at me. I know you are worried when you look at me. I'm not feeling good myself. I've done something I find difficult to impart to you in real words, in hard, open conversation. Kings and queens and emperors and subjects succumbed to infidelity, but that did not justify any  foray into these betrayals on my part._  

Everything changed then as David's charm drew me in. 

The boat bobbed gently on the water, slowly drifting downstream. I was amazed at the rainbow fish that accompanied the boat, bobbing in and out of the water. I had an insane image of sheep gambolling on green pastures, they were so happy! David sat opposite me, rowing, while I sat running my hand in the water, occasionally touching one of the fish. He smiled often and injected me with a light-heartedness. A large bird squawked noisily as it swooped over us before flying off. 

Hey!" A little ball of bird dropping sat neatly on the gunwale, where my hand had just been. 

David laughed. "Just be glad that cows can't fly, Kathryn!" 

That image had me breaking into a burst of laughter. It was so infectious. But suddenly David went quiet again. I didn't like the look in his eyes - heavy, smoky, in love… 

"Do you love me, Kathryn? Please say that you do," he pleaded. 

I hesitated a long while as I gazed intently at him. Like a hungry puppy, I soaked up this man's attentions, simply wanting more. His question hung like a sword above me demanding a response which it wanted to wrest with force. Was I starving so much for the unbridled passion of my own husband? I craved it badly, yes. 

Not from David. 

Not from any other man. 

From Chakotay, husband. 

My being cried for Chakotay in those moments David waited for me. Sandalwood warred with the fragrance of the ocean breeze on a spring morning. 

"Do you, Kathryn?" David persisted. 

I took a deep breath. It was never my intention to hurt him, nor ever to hurt my husband. In a second, I could have given David what he wanted, but my resolve rescued me from folly. 

"I am married, David," I said firmly. "It is a fact of my life, of yours too. I cannot betray my husband and my children. I cannot up and leave them, nor do I in all of creation want to. Yes, I feel attracted to you. I cannot deny it. You have lit me up, you know? For a long time, I could not laugh, be happy, for a long time I was afraid of entertaining joy. You gave me that, and I am most thankful that you did. I enjoy your company, very much, and that is the truth. I do not believe I can give you more, nor, if you will forgive me, do I owe you more than that. I accept that you feel the way you do, but that is something you must grapple with. 

"This has to end, David. I cannot continue like this. Irrespective of the tone and colour of my relationship with my husband and family, that has nothing to do with you. I owe Chakotay my love, my undying loyalty, my unflinching trust. He married me in good faith, and I desire to do the right thing by him, regardless of my feelings for you. I cannot do this to him, you understand? 

"We met when our ships were flung deep into the Delta Quadrant and we were forced to join our crews. He was my first officer, working closely by my side for those seven years we travelled to reach home. We were very close during those years. He was my best friend, my mentor, my moral compass, who swore by all the spirits that he would remain by my side forever. I have known him more than twenty years, David. We have been married for fifteen of those years and only after we had endured the harshest of partings, of deceit, of grave injustice to him, to me. I picture him right now, his eyes gazing over Lake George, our special place and I cannot imagine that I'd want to live another day without him. 

"Life has thrown us so many curve balls I always marvelled that we could stand up in the face of those unpredictable hardships. We have experienced a great tragedy in our lives, and for a long time we have struggled to come to terms with that. We've tried and beaten those odds, time after time. With Chakotay, my history is written and I wouldn't want to change that for the world, no matter what misfortunes befell us. 

"You came into my life when I needed to smile more, engage more, chuckle hopelessly at something you said, even laugh. I admit to being conflicted by my attraction to you, but it does not change how I feel about my husband." 

David stared at me with that open regard that had attracted me to him in the first place. He was smiling again, the laugh lines etched deeply along his eyes and the corners of his mouth. I couldn't prevent little bubbles of joy exploding from my bosom. Life with Chakotay in recent years when we were both too sullen had drained all natural impulses from us. I couldn't tell David that. I felt it sacrilege to impart to another the nature of my intimate life, hoping against hope that it would improve someday. 

"I hope you don't mind that I shall continue to love you, Kathryn," David said quietly. "We haven't known one another long, but I knew when I met you that I wanted to be with you always. It cannot be so, naturally. But I beg you, let me have this time with you, please. Please?" 

I gave a deep, deep sigh, relieved that I could tell David the truth. Being unfaithful tore at the fabric of my existence. Two months ago, I would have thought infidelity on my part to be inconceivable. Now I was torn between being faithless and faithful. I thought of going home, to a calm reception from Chakotay and a cold bed, to never talking much or confronting our demons and hovering precariously before plunging backwards into hell, to companionable silences in which we never smile, giggle or laugh. Yet I craved that, to be in my home with all the familiar things in my world. I yearned to be back in Chakotay's company, chat with Riordan and Rebecca, for I miss their company. Riordan, always so cryptic at times, yet with his feet firmly on the ground. My stunningly clever son who demanded everything the world had to offer him. Like his father, he too wanted to take the mark of Chakotay's tribe. Riordan whose mathematical skills were encouraged by Grandma Gretchen by the time he was two years old, yet remained remarkably humble. And Rebecca, also far above average intelligence, but wanting to do all the things Riordan did - do math with Grandma Gretchen, climb, row, typical outdoors. But Rebecca didn't forget she was a girl who wanted to look pretty, put on my lipstick, hang around Miral Paris and cousin Erin who were her role models. 

I suddenly wanted to go home. 

"We must go, David or we'll be late at the transports," I said finally. 

"Please? As friends?" 

I gave him my best smile. 

"As friends…" 

************  

 Two weeks later we were again in a small boat on the river with the rainbow fish following us. David had released it from its mooring at the tiny jetty, looking for all the world like a sailor in his hooped sweater. I had had a solid set of lectures the previous day. The students enjoyed it from what I could sense from their responses. One or two told me they'd like to have me there on a more permanent basis. 

I hadn't wanted to join David on another jaunt down the river, but lectures had been exhausting and I needed to unwind. David promised friendship and I was willing to give him that, at least. I relaxed in his company, hoping that we'd not be surprised by a flock of Darayton geese swooping down on us. I had no intention of having my hair or clothes messed up by their droppings! 

"You look rested, Kathryn," David said as he rowed with calm yet strong strokes. I lazed opposite him, gazing at the blue sky, my hand trailing in the water, rainbow fish eager to test a foreign object swimming alongside them. I dreamed of home, of Starfleet Command, of our proposed vacation to our holiday cottage on Naxos Island in the Aegean with its inky waters. Mallory had loved to cavort in the small private beach where our house was located. 

 _Did I have a care in the world, Chakotay? Did I think of home and all that awaited me when I returned the next day? Did I think of doleful eyes and a kiss on my cheek when you and I said 'goodbye'? The children were at school but I'd spoken to them before they left. They wanted - no, ordered! - me to have a good time, I'd been so under the weather lately. I imagined then that I'd return to the tedium of every day life. Before Mallory there had been no monotony, no boredom, no chaste touches. Before Mallory I'd always expected my body to burst into flames once you kissed me, or just looked at me with your warm 'tonight in bed, I'll eat you' look._  

 _Gone all of that._  

But as I sat in the boat, I reflected on the past two weeks. It really had been good being home. As if the visit to Darayton and David had been an exotic fantasy and reality was so much better than what seemed far away and imaginary. I spent time with Chakotay and the children, spent time with my superiors at Headquarters, even visited Palings to dine with Elizabeth and Owen Paris. That gentleman seemed happy enough that I enjoyed teaching off-world. 

Riordan cornered me one day, a look in his eyes that told me it was something serious. 

"Dad worries when you're away, Mother." 

"Riordan, honey, I thought by now your father would be used to my absences - " 

"He's like a bear with a sore head, he snaps at me and Becks. Please, could the lectures end soon so that we could be on even keel again?" 

"Just two more sessions. I plan - " 

I stopped right there. What was I planning? Leaving? Taking my family there? What? 

"What, Mother?" Riordan persisted. 

"On coming home and being with you all, okay? I'll speak to your father, honey, and set his mind at rest." 

Of course, I never got to speak to Chakotay, though he kept staring at me with narrowed eyes, but saying nothing. It was forgotten in the few days leading up to my next departure. 

Only then did the excitement mount, leaving me breathless at times just thinking of seeing my students again, anticipating our post lecture discussions. I would probably see David again. Chakotay had noticed my heightened bloom, the restless manner in which I seemed to move about the house. I'd walk outside to the small creek, ventured beyond to the small copse and back. I couldn't remain still for any reasonable time. In the distance I could see the giant poplar where Mallory lay buried, but even that didn't dampen my renewed spirits as I returned to the farmhouse. 

"You seem eager to be going to Darayton, Kathryn," Chakotay'd said before I left. 

He'd been away himself to Jupiter Station to consult with old Doc Zimmerman about our EMH's upgrades. Two days gone and I missed him.  I could understand that he missed me when I was away, although Riordan and Rebecca didn't seem to mind. They were used to our absences when we shunted them off to their Aunt Phoebe in Paris or they stayed at Palings with the Paris children. Sometimes Phoebe's eldest, Erin, also stayed over. 

But I was looking forward to my master classes, even to chatterboxes like Nala the Bolian student who once told me she had family staying on Mars or Earth's moon, or something. I forgot which. 

"I am excited, Chakotay," I responded, feeling I was entirely truthful in that moment. I was thrilled, but at the back of my mind was David who loved me and whom I had to let down. I couldn't continue with this deceit. While I liked David, I was constantly reminded that I should stop what was happening. 

Only in the cafeteria at the transport station did we preserve the protocols our status as married persons demanded. We'd sit at the same table looking for all the world like two acquaintances who'd just met. I have been the bearer of negative news, bad situations, tragic events on Voyager during all those years we struggled to claw our way back to Earth. I could do it again. My marriage was very important to me; I couldn't destroy it with a kiss and a cuddle in another man's arms, so David had to be told that we couldn't continue with what, in hindsight, was clandestine.  

When I gazed at Chakotay, I remembered Riordan's words, that his father might have suspicions about my mission to Darayton. I wanted to reassure him instantly. So I hugged him fiercely to me, kissed him and felt the old burn in my belly at the touch of his lips on mine. Sighing, I let him go. The creases in his cheeks deepened as a half smile formed. His eyes appeared watery. I felt a fierce burn in my chest. How I loved him in those moments, when fantasy and exotic places were so far away. 

"I'm glad, Kathryn," he said. "You're sure it's only your teaching at the university that has you jumping like a cat around the house?" 

"It's nothing, don't worry so!" 

It was a lie of course, and Chakotay's words struck a chord of disharmony inside me. Why did I have to lie? I fielded his words with as much nonchalance as I could muster. Chakotay's frown deepened as he stared at me. Then as suddenly as the concern appeared it was gone, as if he remembered that jealousy should never be in our lives. 

"Good," he said with a stiff smile. "Take care of yourself, okay?" 

"Don't worry, I will. You take care too, my love," I said, watching with delight how his eyes lit up at my endearment. 

"I love you, you know that, Kathryn. You fill my days and nights. I would not have survived without you by my side. It counts for everything." 

I practically dived into his arms again, holding him very close to me. I didn't speak a word in reply to his declaration. 

_When was our daughter's funeral, Kathryn?_

_A week ago._

_I was out that long?_

It was the day I dreaded with every fibre of my being - having to tell my husband that not only had Mallory died, but that we buried her while he still lay in a deep coma, when we were not certain that he'd ever wake up. 

Soft rain had sifted down, caressing the fronds of our umbrellas. I held Rebecca and Riordan close to me. The words from the chaplain were soft but full of solace, the assurance that grief was fleeting, that the tender memories of a loved one lasted a lifetime. 

Yet our tears mingled with the rain and once merged, found refuge in our hearts as the small white casket was lowered into the ground. 

Riordan and Rebecca had broken free to stand at the edge of the grave, weeping as only children could shed tears for a sibling whom they had loved and teased, who cajoled little sweet things from them. 

My heart broke all over again. Outside in the corridor of Chakotay's ward, the EMH and my mother waited. My weeping had never stopped, but I'd had to cauterize my tear ducts to comfort Riordan and Rebecca. It was a terrifying time for me, for all of us. 

_You remember, my love, that you were in a coma for two weeks? You almost died again when we told you about Mallory. I'd been so afraid to tell you. Why? you asked me later. Because, I told you, you would have gone mad. You did go mad before slipping into a coma again. Even now I can still hear your screams in the hospital. Like an animal in pain, unable to break free of the trap in which he's caught. After you woke again, the weeping wouldn't stop. You blamed yourself, I blamed myself, we wallowed in the might-have-beens, but no one could have predicted the sudden seismic vibrations that happened as suddenly as they stopped, but not before causing the rock fall which killed seven people, three of them children. There was nothing you could have done. You had to live with those regrets, of taking Mallory  to the caverns on Mars in the first place._

_Where did you bury her, my love?_  

 _Do you remember one day when we walked the property, we stood by the great poplar near the banks of the stream, a kilometre from the farmhouse? Do you remember that you said how nice it would be to have a family plot under the tree? I told you I hoped we wouldn't have to use it anytime soon._  

_Here lies young Mallory_

_Only six years old_

_Gone too soon…_  

 _We buried her under the giant poplar as the rain soaked into the earth._  

"Kathryn…Kathryn…" 

I opened my eyes. I sighed as I realised I'd been drifting to the past again. 

"Sorry, David. I'm not good company today. But see, I must tell you that I cannot continue my association with you. I need my sanity, need to be with my family, to place them first in my life. Please, you have to understand that - " 

"I asked for friendship, Kathryn." 

"Right now, I feel I cannot offer you that, for I'd be building it on untruths and deception. I'm so sorry. I like you, very much. Maybe in another life without attachments, loving you would have been easy, uncomplicated. But I have to tell you to stop insisting on seeing me - " 

"I love you - " 

"David! Are you listening to yourself? What about your wife and children? Are you not in the least bit concerned about them?" 

David gazed at me, forgetting to row as the boat veered to the bank of the river. He quickly corrected steering. I should have told him I wanted to get out. But the day was beautiful and once again I was enthralled by the hundreds of rainbow fish that broke the surface and plopped back into the water. I could swear they were laughing at us. I smiled and wonder of wonders, David seemed to have calmed and broke into a grin too. 

"I apologise, dear Kathryn. It's just that I find you so attractive, so ready to converse with me, to find humour in even tiny things. My wife - " 

David paused abruptly. He bit his lip, and I got the impression he was not going to divulge any further information. I wasn't going to ask either. I’d worked with Vulcans for years and if Tuvok was anything to go by, Mrs Cannon was without humour. 

"Look, I want to go home and have good memories of Darayton, of this city and its craft market, the museums, this river with its rainbow fish and - " 

"Hey!" David shouted, interrupting my words as he looked up. 

A flock of geese were heading our way. Larger than Earth's, they appeared like condors with oversized wingspans. They squawked raucously, diving right towards us. I screamed, ducked to avoid being hit. I heard David's cries as he tried to keep the boat on even keel. But it was impossible. Our movements caused the boat to rock violently. I keeled to the starboard side and before I knew it, I was in the water. I went down, seeing hundreds of rainbow fish circling me. As I surfaced, I saw David's head bobbing not far from me, spitting something back in the water. Somehow, he managed to right the boat, its oars still attached to their oar locks. Once we were back in, wet as otters, I imagined I was spitting out one of the little baby rainbow fish. The image was so funny, I couldn't help smiling. I looked at David. Surely he almost swallowed tiny fish! A baby rainbow fish! Mirth danced in his eyes, those beautiful laugh lines deepening.  Somewhere I'd lost my wide-brimmed hat, but I didn't care! 

Then it started. The laugh that rumbled from deep in my stomach, rose up towards my bosom, filled my lungs and bubbled out. I burst into uncontrollable laughter and David followed. I couldn't stop chuckling, my eyes filling with tears from the joy of doing something I had not done in years. 

**********

 _As I mentioned earlier, dear Chakotay, the boat ride should never have happened. I was too eager, I suppose, to experience the sights of Darayton and to be in David's company. I felt assured that there'd be no touching, no holding of hands, no anything else, for that matter. Even as I'm sitting here, I want to apologise in silence, to say how sorry I am for starting this whole thing in the first place. From that first meeting with David, when he cleared the eyelash from my eye, I should have stopped it right there. But that first meeting was nothing, really, just a very brief encounter with a stranger who helped me._  

But it was that touch, that surprise at our second meeting that really ensnared me. My sigh is deep enough that you look up and fix your gaze on me, your eyes narrowing, the little movement in your chair indicating you want to come over to my and take my hand, but rethink your action and sag back. Would that you had done so! 

Anyway, that fateful day I found myself in David's apartment that he used whenever he stayed on Darayton II. I had balked at going with him to his place. We were both soaking wet, my hair straggly. I couldn't go like that to the transport station, looking so unkempt and very uncomfortable in clothes that clung to my body. So I accepted David's offer of his place to dry myself, still uneasy about going with him. 

We had some hours to kill before we had to leave. I felt uncomfortable being there. There was a coldness, an emptiness about it, likely because David was the only one occupying it for any length of time. Still, the silence was a little unsettling. I realised that my own home was always full of sounds - someone in the kitchen fixing something to eat or drink, Rebecca singing at the top of her voice some aria by the Klingon Merwede, who, despite her warrior-like appearance had a remarkable coloratura soprano voice. Sometimes Riordan flew an object about the farmhouse in his ever-present experimental mood, running after it like a child. In many ways he was still remarkably child-like. Chakotay… Always busy with something when he was home. And then our beloved music. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin… Somehow, I expected to hear music in David's flat. Didn't he grow up with music around his childhood home? Music, art, literature, poetry…it was our cultural lifeblood. 

Very little of that seemed to exist in David's apartment. Perhaps he had other interests which he probably explored on his homeworld. 

He pointed me to the bathroom and a bedroom where I could change and replicate fresh attire. The river was not that clean! I could wash and style my hair again. But I constantly felt the uneasiness eating away at me. I was in the home of another man, even if it was to change into clean clothes.David was in the master bedroom where he was also changing. 

"I feel uncomfortable being here," I told David when he emerged and stood in front of me in the spacious lounge. He was a medical specialist operating in two hospitals, probably a third. He very likely owned the property. I wanted to go home, to Chakotay who remained unaware of his wife being made love to by someone else. He didn't deserve it. 

"Kathryn…" 

David's voice had grown hoarse. I thought he appeared uncertain for once. I frowned. What was he up to? I wondered. 

"I should go," I told him, wishing he wouldn't look at me like that. "That room I was in…who sleeps there?" 

I had an idea from pictures I'd noticed on the walls, the hair brushes and dryer on a little stand, the soft toy perching impishly against a big continental pillow. It didn't look anything like representations of Earth or Klingon animals. But it was a girl's room. The daughter he spoke about who studied at Darayton University? Another woman besides his wife I didn't know of? 

"Nina, my daughter. Sometimes she stays here to attend specialist classes in anthropology at the university. Why are you so worried?" David asked, pulling me into his embrace. 

I jerked myself away from him. My movement puzzled him. I wanted to leave immediately. The attraction was strong, however, and I lurched between launching myself at him and running out. God, he looked… 

It changed. That look. Like a decision I could see turning in his head, considered before I had time to react on it. Before I knew it, he pulled me roughly into his arms. 

The kiss when it came was bruising. Blinded by anger that he had overstepped a boundary, I tried to fight myself out of the punishing embrace. A tussle ensued during which I stepped down hard on his foot. He cried out but grabbed me again. 

"I love you, Kathryn. I want you -" 

"David! You cannot - you promised!" 

"You're in my blood. I cannot live without you. I need you." 

"Let me go!" 

Another damning kiss. I felt something course through me, something I didn't want to entertain. I broke free of the kiss, furious that it was happening. 

"I've got to go. This is over. Don't come near me again - " 

"Come on, Kathryn. You feel something for me. I could feel your lips, responding to me…" 

He grabbed my shoulders, tried to pull me to him again. 

"I want you…" came his anguished cry. 

"Papa?" 

A voice. Girl. Young woman. 

Two faces - David's flushed with passion, mine angered, my lips bruised. 

I stared in dumbfounded disbelief at the young girl standing not two metres from us. She looked Vulcan, slight pointed ears, black hair with short straight bangs, unsmiling face in which dark eyes gazed perplexed at her father. 

David recovered first. 

"Nina, what are you doing here?" 

"Who is this woman?" 

************ 

END CHAPTER 5

 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

"You seem very quiet, Kathryn…" 

"No more than you," I responded. The room was cocooned in warmth, bathed as we were in soft illumination from the gently licking flames. 

Then silence again. I wondered whether Rebecca was sleeping by now and whether Riordan had dived into his sleeping bag on the floor. From experience we knew that he was turning over complex equations in his head and that by morning he'd have decoded some intricate encryptions relating to the mysteries of theoretical physics. 

_The quiet allowed me opportunity to continue telling you my story, Chakotay. While you are immersed in War and Peace and the concert oboist was creating magic in an Albinoni concerto, I was reminded of our early days on Voyager. You were so strong, so angry then, your face constantly set as if in granite. I'd wondered how anyone could make you smile or relax or whether I could puncture that early reserve. How I discovered that music and art stilled the silent rage in you, how we often listened to music together!_

_I don't think I'd been aware at all that I had begun to fall in love with you even then. Always, my own reserve and strict adherence to fraternisation protocols impeded any natural impulse I had to throw myself at you._

_Did I know you felt the same, even then? I'd never dared entertain that notion for fear that I'd become weak and neglect my duty as captain and commander of my ship; being cloaked in command was paramount to me. But I'd always sensed it was there. Only years later would I hear those revelations fall haltingly from your lips and my own pained responses, when I finally shrugged off those constraints. It was never easy, our coming together then, for Seven of Nine had stood like a Colossus between us. Her deceit was artless, was what you always said, in an attempt at justifying the things she'd done to drive a wedge between us._

_My destiny, Chakotay, was woven with yours right from the start, my history written with yours. Our bond, as Tuvok once said, was unbreakable, strong! Then your accident happened, and Mallory died. Everything changed from that moment on._

_We could not connect in bed, even though, God help me, you tried. But being unable to function intimately as a result of your critical injuries became the shackle that refused to release you in those early months. I understood that as a man it hit you very, very hard. When you eventually summoned the courage to see our EMH, it was a relief, for you recognised that your condition was a physical one. Remember how the doctor advised you to see him every year? And for a while it worked for us. You were happy that your condition was not permanent! But so close to the accident, when your recovery was hailed as a miracle, the spectre of falling rocks, of a little body crushed under yours, your guilt that you felt you killed her caused our lovemaking to taper off and become half-hearted attempts at intimacy. Our sex life happened sporadically, leaving us both starved, unrequited. We are not that old, Chakotay, you know that. We could still enjoy a healthy sex life even now, but for that mental block in both of us, I guess. We cling to one another in the deep of night, spoon our bodies and wriggle until we click into place before being overcome by sleep. Still, I so desired to be touched often by you!_  

_While you're reading your novel you glance up from time to time as I'm telling you my story. Then I wonder as I have done the past months, whether David would become part of that history. When you look at me, I notice your frown. Are you suspecting something? Are you concerned? My hands are trembling. Are you seeing that? I badly want to tell you everything!_

_But I can't._  

 _It is hard to explain this conflict in me. My feelings for you remain as always, are unchanged, forever. But David has touched something in me that cried out for a kind of nurturing. I didn't realise how much I needed that freedom to be spontaneous until I met him. We have lost that, Chakotay, if you don't mind me admitting it. As if we were deathly afraid to be happy when right here on the farm a child lies buried who had every reason to live and be sensational. She was sensational! We couldn't be happy and so we slowly sank into the silt of fear that prevented our natural exuberance to rise from it._  

 _Again, I must recount to you if only in my mind, what happened two weeks ago. The bottom dropped out of the world that I thought no one would know about. See, I was rudely awakened to my infidelity, that no matter how one justified adultery with words of everlasting love and devotion, imagining no one got hurt, it did just that. Fealty, Chakotay, is hardwired into you. I have been the recipient of your loyalty from that first day on the bridge of my ship. Outside of marriage, one cannot claim the same with another person. All trust is broken. Even if we didn't actually have sex, even if I was kissed against my will, I have broken trust with you. It was in my thoughts, one maddening moment when David kissed me. I felt a frisson of pleasure course through me. I didn't want that kiss, and yet my body responded to that touch, however unwanted it was. Family - a spouse, children - became casualties of infidelity. There was no escaping that truth - two families would be destroyed._  

 _That day in David's apartment he wanted to make love to me. Oh, Chakotay, I have betrayed you in so many ways I cannot think to tell you of my transgression and the guilty thrill I experienced when he kissed me! But, oh, God! I could have died of shame and the humiliation that remains with me even now as I'm conducting this conversation with you…_  

*

I revisited that moment David's daughter Nina found us as I tried to wrestle free of him. I was so incensed that it blinded me to everything around us. We never heard her enter the flat, and I realised with hindsight that she must have been watching us for at least a minute. I stumbled backwards as I pushed away from David. I felt my face heat up, the anger replaced by utter disgrace. Never have I been in a situation like that, and however innocent my own motives were, it did not look like that to any onlooker, especially David's daughter. Then she spoke. I remembered her voice - cold, impassive, Vulcan, standing at attention like I've only seen Tuvok stand whenever I addressed him my ready room. 

"Who is this woman?" 

I pulled myself together as hastily as I could. I swallowed hard, knowing how my face flamed with shame. I had to get out. I couldn't look the girl in the eyes. 

"Nina, I'm so sorry," I heard her father say. "This is not what - " 

Whatever it was that David tried to explain to his daughter I didn't hear, for by that time I had flown out his home, shaking like a leaf and overcome with humiliation. My dishonour was complete, my behaviour scandalous. Even as I ran, I could feel David's lips bruising mine. If walking briskly so it didn't appear to curious onlookers as if I were running from some dangerous calamity, or a secret tryst, then I ran as fast and as far as I could. My chest burned from unaccustomed exertion but I didn't stop moving, my mind a whirl of torment and guilt. Somehow I managed to keep my tears at bay, and once, when I brushed my hand across my cheek, my beautiful wedding band glinted in the late afternoon sun, a scorching reminder of my indiscretion. There was no purpose to my walking except that I wanted to get away from them. My movements were erratic, aimless, with shocking images of being caught in the throes of kissing. To any person seeing that scene, there would have been little doubt as to what it would have led to. Nina seeing her father kiss a strange woman played over and over in my mind. I’d fought the attraction as hard as I could, but could I deny the thrill that coursed through me with David's hand roaming my body? Nina's accusing eyes burned into my brain and as I ran, so my consternation and mortification grew. It was impossible for those images to remain as something I wanted to revisit. I tried to blank them out but Nina stayed with me. It was my punishment for daring to stray from a perfectly good marriage. 

I kept on moving, the pain so intense that I must have cried out at times during that nightmare walk away from David's abode. Keep going, just keep going, was what I commanded myself. Overcome with exhaustion, I looked for somewhere to sit down, to catch my breath, to let my racing heartbeats return to normal so it wouldn't ache so much. I never noticed people around me, though I'm sure there were many whom I passed and who must have looked at me thinking I was drunk or something. 

I didn't know what David was trying to explain to his daughter and suddenly, I didn't care. 

That moment in his flat as Nina stood there looking accusingly at us, at me! was the moment I realised it was finally over. Whatever indecision I still harboured at seeing him or allowing him liberties with me, was extinguished by ice-cold water. We could never sustain a clandestine relationship without it being turned on its head, flogging us for being careless. The discovery of our secret association shocked me so much that my decision to terminate it forever was instantaneous. Nina's eyes had been curious and condemning at the same time and they sent me spiralling into the bowels of my wrongdoing. 

I had no idea where I was walking. David's guilt with that caught-in-the-act look on his face and Chakotay who waited for me at home bore into my brain, taking turns to torment me. Chakotay, whose kindness I had trampled in the ground. 

It was with mild surprise that I found myself near the bench with the umbrella fronds. Completely exhausted, I sat down and buried my head in my hands, taking deep, painful breaths to compose myself. How could I continue with this? I asked myself. It was not to be endured any longer. Nina's appearance was a colossal shock to me, and especially to David who clearly didn't expect her there. 

Even now, my face remained flushed, not from being touched by David but by shame. Furiously I cupped my cheeks, trying to brush away the heat, only worsening the effort of hiding my shame. Sensing that there was not much time left to get to Koreda Station, I got up to make my way there. 

I heard footsteps, not really surprised when I gazed into David's face. He looked shattered, his face pinched, unsmiling. My heart broke in that moment seeing him so undone. But we had transgressed and his daughter saw us. That was sinful, never to be repeated or entertained. 

"It is over, David," I said. "This cannot go on. I was foolish to think we could get away with this. No more, you understand? Regardless of what I feel for you, it…is…over.  I am going home to my family, to my husband. I am going to fall at his feet and beg his forgiveness for I have done him a grave injustice. My marriage, despite what you might imagine, is a noble one and now I just want to make it good, if not better." 

My voice trembled as the words tumbled in a heated fervour from me. I forced back my tears. David, tall, sandy haired, brown eyed, happy face David stared at me. I flinched when he tried to touch me. Did I speak those words? His hand dropped to his side. For some absurd moment, he reminded me of Chakotay during those days on Voyager when I turned away from his advances - a touch on my hand, my shoulder, brush against my hair. And I remembered then how Chakotay looked - sad-faced, disappointed, the heartbreak glaring in his eyes. I'd walked away from him so often that that look had become his trademark, obvious only to me. David looked like that now, and I knew how he too hurt in those moments. Yet, I couldn't care. I wanted to save what I’d very nearly thrown away. 

I had to break with David and sever myself from him. 

His mouth moved, I think, but was he saying anything? I didn't want to hear any explanation, yet I remained, waiting for what, I don't know, coward that I was. 

What he said was not what I expected. 

"I am leaving in a fortnight for the planet Melvech in the Gamma Quadrant. There is a very large contingent of humans living there. I have thought about it before…before this. I am not returning, Kathryn, to this planet or my homeworld. I know that what I demanded from you, from us, was unfair. I could no more expect you to go away with me than I could separate from my wife. It was a fantasy for me too, you know? Although I swear by all that's holy, that I love you. I realise…well, it's too late to make amends, to even apologise for putting you in such a terrible position. We will be settling permanently, and my wife and I will service hospitals in Melvech's first city as well as other homeworlds in that system. It seems my expertise is needed there." 

What could I say? His announcement came as a surprise but also, I realised, a sense of relief flooded through me. I had to admit that David had experienced the same doubt and disservice to his partner that I had. I could go home and continue my happy marriage with a very good man who didn't deserve my infidelity. I still felt a very strong pull to David though, and wondered absently whether I would stop feeling so damned needy in his presence. But, I'd distanced myself from men like David before - Kashyk, Gathorel Labin, even Jaffen. I had to do so now with this man standing in front of me. 

"I love you, Kathryn, you must know that. I shall love you to my dying day." 

I nodded simply, acknowledging his admission, but kept quiet. All the time I saw his daughter's accusing eyes, his own lack of control when he tried to kiss me. I wanted to lose control in lovemaking but with my husband. I vowed to wait until Chakotay was ready, when we could no longer be speared by mental blocks when we made love. 

David's eyes never left mine. "Tell me you feel the same?" he begged me. 

How could I? The stranglehold  eased slightly. I coughed, sputtering as if I'd really been choked. My chest still hurt from the effort of run-walking from his apartment, the insistent and painful stabbing now a soft thudding of my heart. 

"I cannot deny that I did feel something, David. You made me laugh again, made me feel less guilty about expressing joy. But it is over, you understand? Over. I must go - " 

"Please, will you meet me in two weeks' time? I beg you. To say goodbye to you, darling." 

"No! I cannot do that. I've decided - " 

"To say my last goodbye to you. I swear it is only to say goodbye in the cafeteria at the Koreda Station. It's all I ask, to take your image to sustain me for the rest of my life." 

In time I would think how melodramatic he sounded. I hovered between indecision and the resolve to stay true to my own promise. I didn't want to meet David again. But could just saying goodbye hurt that much? Could it? I had to be back at the university in a fortnight, anyway. I would stay there and only head for the transport station near my departure time. Just enough time to say goodbye to David forever. 

"Fine," I acquiesced at last. "Just to say goodbye." 

"Thank you, my love." 

I didn't want to see the anguish in his face, didn't want to succumb to the temptation of hugging him and assuring him everything would be alright. It wasn't alright. It would never be alright. He had a wife with whom he was breaking faith just by declaring his feelings for me. So I turned away from him and walked blindly in the direction of the transport station, my dishonour cruelly following me with every step I took to reach my home. 

Every day for the next two weeks I thought of saying goodbye to David when I'd met him again. I was jumpy as a cat, even irritable at times with the children. While Chakotay studied me with brooding eyes, the children took it in their stride. I was working too hard, they said. I should take a break, they argued, so that all of us could go on holiday and relax, according to Riordan. But Chakotay constantly looked like he suspected something. I tried my best to deflect his concerns. At night I lay in his arms, or spooned myself against his warm, comforting, reassuring body. I could feel him relax, with that deep inhaling of breath that indicated how pleased he was that I wasn’t rejecting him. We immersed ourselves in the work of the Delta Quadrant's New United Federation of Planets and that kept me from dwelling too much on what had happened on Darayton II or my rendezvous with David Cannon. 

Sometimes I thought of David, my heart thudding wildly at the prospect of seeing him again, only  to part with him forever. I pondered often on why he was always so happy, with his smiling face, the earnest, eager eyes, his easy friendliness - those attributes that attracted me to him in the first place. He made me laugh, something I hadn't done in years. He'd told me once that his wife was half-Vulcan, half-human. My knowledge of Vulcans extended mostly to their strict order of decorum and self-discipline, never allowing a show of emotion, and always, always, unsmiling, logical and stoic. I knew Tuvok and Vorik very well, knew of the great Spock. These men had been exasperating to deal with, for to draw even a chuckle from them was impossible. Even the half-Vulcan Spock had been like that, by all accounts I've read of the original Enterprise crew's exploits during their five-year missions. 

Was that what David's wife, T'rina, was like? He must have loved her once. Maybe deep down he loved  her still and my presence in his life was simply a distraction. Being married to a person whose entire life was one of logic and self-discipline and the suppression of emotion must have been a strain during their marriage. David was a naturally friendly person who was humorous and fun to be with. It didn't excuse him of course, but did he have to subdue that natural gift permanently because of his half-Vulcan wife? I thought that was what attracted David to me although I must have been quite morose at times. So he laughed. He showered all his friendliness on his patients, on people he befriended, of that I was certain, because emotional outbursts like an expression of pleasure was possibly not acceptable in his home. With his children, yes, but how much were they influenced by their mother? 

My conjectures gave me a headache, but this I realised as I thought of David… His laughter was the antidote to his still life inside his home. I wanted to remember that about him. The heat rose in me, a burn that hurt so much that I gave a low cry of pain.

"Kathryn…" Chakotay's voice sounded. 

I glanced up. He looked at me with a frown. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Of course I'm fine, honey. Nothing wrong with me." 

"You're leaving again tomorrow," he stated. 

"Yes. Three more stints then I'm done." 

"I'm glad. I miss you, you know? When you're gone… " 

"Don't worry so!" I reassured him, pulling him into my embrace. It was good being with him and for a moment I could forget about David. 

But what awaited me at Koreda Transport Station on Darayton II? 

*****

Two weeks later I met David just outside the station. There was a lot of movement about the cafeteria. We found a secluded spot not far from the cafe. David had promised it was only to say goodbye. He moved, an impulse to draw me into his arms, but I resisted it. I didn't want to ask about his wife and children. They were leaving and we'd never see each other again. 

When I glanced up at him, there were tears in his eyes. I was suddenly quite sorry that he was so sad, this smiling, happy man. But he had to leave, to continue making a home with his wife. She must love him as much as I knew Chakotay loved me. 

"Your laughter became your antidote to logic and the absence of emotion," I told him, my voice sounding strong. 

"Yes. You cannot know how hard it was. In the beginning it was bearable. I did love her, you know?" 

"I know. You will love her again, David. You will. I'm going to miss your smile, that chuckle that rose from deep in your chest that was so infectious." 

Later, we sat down at our table in the cafeteria. We were silent, drinking our tea, acting as if we were just acquaintances. It seemed pointless now to reflect on things past. We never spoke about what had happened two weeks ago in his apartment. I couldn't reflect on it  without the shame that inevitably accompanied that recollection. It was enough to keep me in check. 

"I love you," David whispered, leaning forward so that only I could hear him. "With all my heart and my soul." 

_What about your wife? What about my husband?_

"You said - " 

"I know what I said. I want to look at you and commit your image to my memory forever, darling. I need this, more than you think." 

"I understand, perhaps more than you know." 

This time, when David's hand rested on mine, I didn't pull it away. I suddenly felt sad for him, but I needed to be strong for me. I did feel a sense of loss that soon it would be over completely. He'd come to say goodbye forever, relocating to another homeworld, and I had to re-sculpt my niche in mine all over again. 

It was the end. 

I gave a small cry as my cup clanged in the saucer. I'd hardly noticed the tea getting cold or the flowery design on the cup. I covered his hand that rested on mine, feeling the trembling under my fingers. I tried to remain dry-eyed in a resolve to banish the return of old salty tears I'd cried whenever I was alone. David didn't need to see them, especially now. But like an invisible animal it gnawed at me and caused a ripple of pain to escape. 

What antidote could I create for my life with a man whose lovemaking had tempted me? 

"Your transport is leaving in ten minutes," I told him, not wanting to think of home just yet, hardly able to speak above a whisper. "You must go now. Be the happy family I know you can be." 

"I know," he replied, his eyes cloudy, a frown marring his attractive forehead. Our tea forgotten in the misery of our parting. 

"Oh, hello, Mrs Janeway!" 

Nala, the young Bolian girl who couldn't stop talking, interrupting our goodbye, David offering to get her a drink, our extreme anxiety at being held up, stealing those last minute goodbyes. It wasn't to be. I kept hearing Don Giovanni's " _La ci darem da mano_ " as time was running out. David's transport was leaving any minute. How could we say our final farewell now? Nala grated on me for once. 

David returned with Nala's drink. Then he gave me a stricken look as I was forced to listen to the young Bolian woman. I felt a hand on my shoulder, a hard, distressed squeeze. There was nothing we could do now. The minutes had ticked inexorably by.  

Then the hold on my shoulder relaxed, releasing me completely. I daren't look up at him, for I knew that the anguish in his eyes would be reflected in my own. It was over. A minute or so after he left comma I jumped up and exited the cafeteria, leaving a surprised Nala behind. I rushed to where I knew his transport had been waiting. 

He was gone. 

A goodbye only in the way he squeezed my shoulder. 

I stood there, lost for a moment. I wanted to remember him, remember his soft hands that couldn't hurt but healed instead. I would remember the laughs, the joy in his smiling face, the sun glinting in his hair, the unblemished openness of his regard. 

And the shame. 

I endured Nala's running commentary on her cousin's coming nuptials until we parted to board different vessels. I switched off, to be honest, preferring to imagine I was Lucia singing   _Il dolco suono_ , going mad after stabbing her husband Arturo to death in _Lucia di Lammermoor_. I kept hearing Lucy Ashton's grief, her total desolation at losing her beloved Edgardo. Lucia was my persistent ear worm until I reached home. 

*******************

_That is my story, Chakotay. I met a man on Darayton who taught me to laugh again. I met a man to whom I felt attracted._

My hand trembled violently, so I clutched the PADD to still my anxiety and rising hysteria. Could I have ever foreseen that I would feel something akin to love for someone else? With a marriage that had everything in place, that everyone said was perfect? David came as a breath of fresh air into my life. What baggage he carried in his personal life was successfully concealed by his open regard, his pleasant demeanour, the way I could see the sun radiating from him. He was the antithesis of Chakotay, not the Chakotay of old, but my husband sitting across from me, who appeared constantly pinched, unsmiling, worried. 

Was it only ten weeks ago that I met David? Was it only the other day a complete stranger wiped an eyelash from my eye that had caused me such discomfort? Was it a minute ago that we met in the craft market and he smiled at me, so happy to see another human amongst all the Daraytons? 

I was hungry for affection and I realised now just how starved I had been for the kind of intimacy David offered. His presence in my life somehow exposed the coldness, the undemonstrative routine into which my life with Chakotay had slipped. Ours was a happy marriage despite the coldness, but it left us appearing like old people satisfied with just sitting across from each other in the evenings listening to music and when it was time to go to bed, getting up with creaking backs and legs. 

Did I ever envisage this life for myself when Chakotay and I married? There had been so many well-meaning messages after the accident, most pertinently those who kindly told us that there were always things happening that we couldn't control, that sometimes nothing made sense at all. Did I ever envisage that I would stray from a perfectly sound union and find affection in the arms of another man? Never in creation would I have contemplated such a thing when I married Chakotay. 

The kindest, most understanding, compassionate man who breathed. 

But it happened. Was I a coward? Could I have nipped my attraction to David Cannon in the bud at the earliest stage? Was it out of my control that the fates decided a pair of liquid brown eyes could be my undoing? I miss David, miss the laughter. 

I tried to smother my cry of anguish, the PADD sailing to the floor. Chakotay's face was a blur, as if I'd woken from a deep, dark dream. A long, long journey from which I'd been so reluctant to return, even though sorrow followed every agonising step I took to the present. Somewhere in my tormented meandering, the realisation registered that Chakotay had put down _War and Peace_ and was staring intently at me. I tried to stifle the bourgeoning sobs that wanted to burst from my chest, the pain so intense that I groaned again. 

A soft rustle as he rose from his chair and bent next to me. I inhaled his musk, the old familiar ocean breeze that was so unquestionably him. He grasped my hand in his, eyes dark with concern. A sudden flash of another hand in the same protective comforting gesture. But with Chakotay so close, the familiar cologne so welcoming, his nearness was suddenly a solace to me and that image of a faraway man dissolved in the immediacy of my plight. A sob escaped me and I knew not how to contain my anguish. 

"Kathryn…" 

I could only see him through a blur of tears. His voice was croaky, laced with concern, so sympathetic and kind  that all I wanted to do was cry. My heart was breaking. 

"Yes?" I asked, hardly above a whisper. Oh, why was he so kind to me? I did him such a disservice! My hands were clasped comfortingly in his, his face close to mine. My conversation with him had come to an end, but my pain, my discomfort, my sense of loss, my utter humiliation continued unabated. 

He gazed into my eyes. He was suddenly so strong; it was so easy to rest my head against his shoulder and feel the solace of his nearness and of his warm touch. I gave another little sob and wondered idly why I’d never told him the truth from the start. 

"Whatever your dream was," Chakotay began slowly, "wherever it was you journeyed, it wasn't a happy one, was it?" 

David was gone forever. I wanted to tell you everything, Chakotay, aloud, in my own voice, but it was impossible. A lump grew in my throat and I found it so difficult to swallow. How could I destroy the kindest man in the whole world? The one whom I knew would have understood more than anyone else? Was my dream, my long journey, a happy one?

 _No, it wasn't a happy one._  

"No…"  

I looked away from his probing, compassionate eyes, but a finger under my chin gently turned me to face him. I couldn't stand his kindness! My throat felt thick, the urge to weep so great! 

"Is there anything I can do to help, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked. 

He did not know what had really transpired, yet he understood, like he had understood me on Voyager, understood me throughout our marriage. And always, the desire in him to help without once asking for a reason. Just help, because Chakotay, dear loving, beloved Chakotay, could never bear to see me unhappy. 

"Yes…yes, you always have," I whispered. 

"You've been a long way away," he said, "in a world in which you hurt very deeply. I could sense it, my beloved. I don't know where you dwelled, but your journey brought you pain and great sorrow." 

I nodded wordlessly, unable to speak for the thickness in my throat. Oh, why was he so understanding? So perfect? 

"Where are you now, my Kathryn?" 

The first sob began deep in my bosom and rumbled to the surface as I looked at him. 

"Here…home, at last, " I murmured softly. 

Chakotay cupped my face in his large hands. I saw him as he'd looked at me lying on the biobed on Voyager, saw him the night in an ancient Eden when he'd declared his loyalty to me. I saw the things he'd done for me even when I objected because he loved me so. From always, from the beginning of time, his face, his concern, his compassion, his love, his unflinching devotion so evident in his regard. In those moments, as he held me, every romantic association I'd had before him was simply a waiting period for Chakotay who would come to complete my life. 

I felt the storm brewing, of tears and sobs and all the 'I'm sorrys' that threatened to break the walls of my resolve because even in my pain, my sorrow, my guilt, Chakotay's eyes were clear. Whatever he sensed in those moments held absolutely, wonderfully, mercifully no condemnation.

"Thank you, Kathryn, for coming back to me…" 

I fell into my husband's arms, his embrace fierce and protective and reassuring, his frame rock solid against which I could lean and absorb his strength. 

Then I wept. 

It was a wild, uncontrolled shedding of tears. My body trembled violently against him. Chakotay's words of endearment that I had thought lost in the mists of our tragedy returned. And we welcomed them, for did I not feel his tears on my hands, on my face, mingling with my own? Far, far away another man dreamed of me, and right here in my husband's arms my dream of that man ended. 

Later, when I'd calmed down, I heard the children ask, "Is Mom going to be okay, Dad?" 

And Chakotay smiled, his eyes still full of tears, a little wobble in his voice. 

"Very okay, kids. She'll be okay…" 

"Brilliant! Goodnight!" 

"Come, Kathryn," Chakotay urged later as he pulled me gently to my feet, "you look exhausted." 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Bed." 

******

 END CHAPTER 6

 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Our bedroom comprised half of the upper  floor of our farmhouse. We had our own private bathroom and a tiny alcove where we sometimes enjoyed breakfast. The only other area on that floor was a large airy room that was Chakotay's studio where he created his sand paintings and where I sometimes dabbled in a bit of painting myself. 

Our bed faced the bedroom window. Propped against the pillows we could look directly ahead at the night sky. The window was large, shaped a lot like a starship's main viewscreen. When  Riordan and Rebecca were quite small and wanted to know everything about starships, Chakotay had the window built like a viewscreen. Sometimes it gave us a weird sense of being still on Voyager while lying in bed, as if upon waking we could see the waning stars through a porthole or imagined we saw a nebula in the distance.  

Years ago, Chakotay had soundproofed the upper floor. We had three very active kids all busy growing up and he'd been wary of the children being unwitting listeners to noises during our most intimate lovemaking. Besides, whenever we allowed them in our room, they had a rousing time screaming at the top of their lungs while one was outside on the porch, unable to hear them. It was a proof the insulated room was working! 

It was our sanctuary, our cocoon away from the kids' natural curiosity and where we could be as bold in our lovemaking as we desired, or weep or simply enjoy our silences without the distraction of answering a thousand questions at once, and some of them not so childish! Riordan tested us the most I suppose, because he soaked up complex mathematical equations and anything scientific at an astonishing rate. 

On summer mornings when the earth had already begun to warm up during the night, sun streamed through our viewscreen, its beams touching the bed covers, appearing for all the world like a starship's warp trail. Some days the room was bathed in colourful daubs that danced about like moving rainbows. When the children were smaller they had been fascinated by the play of light and had always gravitated in the mornings to play on the bed with us. 

There was a sense of peace and quiet about the room, bathed right now in glorious light from the early autumn glow. 

My waking moments were languid, my eyes slowly growing accustomed to my surroundings which momentarily appeared strange, unknown to me, making me wonder whether I'd woken from a coma, a strange lethargy all over my body. I experienced a mild sense of disorientation, of not knowing where I was or what day it was, even what time of day, accompanied by panic that I found myself out of time, or that I'd forgotten something important. So I lay for a few minutes until order returned, the room became familiar and with it, relief. 

 _I am in my bed. It is the morning after…_  

I turned my gaze to the sleeping man next to me, a smile forming as I caressed his cheek. He lay on his back, his face turned to me. There was a new restfulness about him, the stark lines of his face soft, relaxed. His hair was completely grey, a little lock stubbornly curling over his forehead. 

I sighed as I lay back to savour the memory of my most astounding silent confession of last night, of Chakotay's absolute caring, his love, his _loving_. 

And then I touched my breasts, the nipples taut and still so tender as my fingers traversed my body to pause and ponder everywhere Chakotay had touched me. Images during the night, of Chakotay's mouth on my body, assailed me. My nipples caught between his teeth, grazing them, latching his whole mouth and suckling so insistently that lightning shards of pleasure had shot through my whole body. At first, I'd thought he was simply trying again to little avail like as had happened in the past, but it felt different this time. His body gleamed in the soft illumination, so much like it had always been during our first heady years of marriage - strong, muscular. Why did I feel breathless with wonder and the anticipation of something magnificent about to happen? It had been a while since we last made love. My body simply sprang into a shocking response of an expectation that it would be ravaged like in the early days of our union. Chakotay had been soft, tender, at times bold and rough, his voice hoarse with emotion, but mostly so gentle! 

I rejoiced in this Chakotay, who had returned as the lover I had dreamed of for so long.

I ran warm fingers from my breasts, down towards my navel, rested there a second before boldly travelling further down, to my still warm core. 

My _used_ core… Very well _used_ centre. I recalled that moment last night. Chakotay lay over me, alternately suckling at my breasts, brushing heated lips across mine, nipping at my ear lobes. Then… 

"Chakotay…?" I'd gasped softly when unaccountably, as he lay over me, I could feel his shaft growing hard and strong. I'd frowned deeply. 

"Yes, beloved, it is happening…" he responded with a victorious groan. 

I began sobbing, and even then I asked as I rubbed myself against his startling erection, "What are we waiting for?" 

His entry into my body was accompanied by deep, painful, rasping sobs from both of us. I imagined I heard music from the heavens, but it was our crying, our uninhibited breathless moans as Chakotay began his assault. It was filled with joy that cleansed us, that washed away our pain as I received his thrusts and our bodies reclaimed the symphonic rhythm of old. When Chakotay collapsed finally, he braced himself to give me some relief, his body shuddering in the aftermath of climaxing. 

We made love again several hours later when we both woke up from a deep slumber, surprised when he was hard as a rock again. I didn't ask where or how or why it happened, explanations would come later. 

I touched my centre, rejoicing at the memory of him moving inside me. 

"Why the tears, my love?" 

I braced myself on my elbow facing him. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough," Chakotay said, a smile transforming his features. 

"Your eyes are clear," I said with wonder, unable to stop gazing at what felt so incredibly new in the bright light of morning. 

Chakotay lifted trembling fingers to caress my cheek. 

"I was so afraid, Kathryn. So very afraid." 

I sensed instantly the source of his fear, not so much of performing in bed, but my detachment from him. I nodded, remembering his constantly pinched look, the worry of the last months. It would have been easy, so easy to take the other road that lay invitingly open before me. But my marriage was real and the protection of it, paramount. 

"My marriage," I began slowly, trying to find the right words, " _us_ … is important to me. I was always aware of that, always, even though…"  

I thought a moment about David Cannon who had breezed into my life and almost, almost, I had thrown away everything I held most dear in my marriage to Chakotay - trust and fealty, my promise of forever. It was a brief temptation, a brief encounter. Over the next few weeks, maybe months, when I would ponder on what had happened, I might find logical explanations to why I could contemplate straying into a clandestine affair. I might think of poor David's wife who surely must know about his infidelity by now. There might be times I'd be thinking of him, of how he brought sunshine into my life. 

But now was not the time to ponder on those things, not when my husband was lying beside me, not when we’d connected last night like I'd dreamed for three years. The shadows of our sorrow were beginning to slowly move further and further away. 

Chakotay turned on his side and braced himself on his elbow, gazing down at me. A smile worked its way from his lips to settle in his eyes. My heart hammered as I remembered days gone by when he'd looked at me like that. He had something on his mind and I waited for him to speak. 

"I know, my love," he began, "that there are things weighing on you, but I know you. When the time is right, they will come to you, to share with freedom, even as I suspect, they will cause you great hurt. It was my constant hope that we would connect again, as I am sure it was yours too - " 

I felt the tears seeping to the surface, threating to blur my vision again as they had last night. This time I didn't mind them coursing down my cheeks. Chakotay brushed them away with his lips, the touch so reverent that I gave a small sob. 

"I will tell you, my love, in time. You are the most patient man I know, the most understanding and I love you for it. Right now, I revel in finding our way again. We - " 

I paused suddenly, hating it when his eyes darkened with concern. 

"What, Kathryn?" 

"We never really talked about Mallory, did we?" I asked, caressing his cheek. 

There was a long pause in which I thought Chakotay reflected on his response. 

"No, we were both too afraid of opening wounds and hurting all over again. Not even to reflect on the happy days, what she was like. I'm sorry, Kathryn…so sorry." 

"She did everything in such a hurry! Walking by the time she was nine months, sprouting her first tooth so early, off diapers just as early! And then, always insisting on holding your hand rather than mine whenever we went for a walk…"  I felt tears again, though this time happy tears of reminiscing, that it didn't hurt so stingingly. 

"Ah, she was our light. Kathryn - ?" 

"There is a door with her name on it," I ventured. 

"We shall be there this morning, my love." 

Then I shifted to lie in his arms, rejoicing in the happy chuckle he gave when I fondled him, gently, almost absently, rejoicing in feeling him like that. It had sprung stunningly to life last night, as hard as I always dreamed, filling me to the hilt, and then afterwards lying in the afterglow of our lovemaking. 

"Kathryn…" Chakotay groaned. 

"What is it?" I asked in a muffled voice. 

"It is time for my annual visit to our EMH…" 

I thought of those early weeks after the accident when he'd refused to see the doctor, believing his manhood destroyed. Common sense prevailed and with treatment the EMH had declared him restored. Even so, our sex life had not improved greatly since then, and the last weeks had been non-existent. Or so he thought, until last night. 

"Do you think it's still necessary?" I asked, full of admiration for his courage. Last night he was like a young man again, with no indication that he'd ever had such a problem. 

Chakotay nodded, rather empathically. "I made the appointment while you were on Darayton II," he said.   "It's still an ego thing, Kathryn, but it's necessary to go." 

"I'm glad." It was a huge relief that swamped through me. 

We were on a path to healing.  We enjoyed lying in and simply talking. It was Friday and we both had a day off as well as the rest of the weekend free. We had more time to connect now. I wormed myself into his arms and he clutched me tightly to him. His lips brushed my hair and it was as if he were saying a silent prayer the way I felt his lips move. Gone were the awful cobwebs, gone David Cannon whose presence was so hypnotic. My tears welled again. Chakotay soothed, murmured little endearments. For a few minutes I felt cocooned and cosseted and I wondered absently how I could have thought for one brief moment in the eons of time this was not my life, that this was not where my heart resided. 

"I love you, Chakotay," I whispered desperately, then kissed him gently on his lips. Soft murmurings followed as his lips moved under mine. 

Then a knock on the door.   

Chakotay coughed as we separated slowly and sat upright. He turned to his bedside table to tap his commbadge. 

"Come in," he invited. His voiced sounded light, happy! 

The doors slid open.  

Rebecca rushed in first, fully dressed for school, followed by Riordan who really needed a hair cut. They jumped on our bed before Rebecca greet-hugged me while Riordan wormed his way next to Chakotay, smiling as he hugged his father. Riordan was always Chakotay's son. Our son was super gifted, but remained incredibly humble and humorous. I felt no rancour. Then Rebecca leaned over to hug her father before lying between us, giving a huge sigh of contentment. We hadn't done this sort of thing for weeks! 

"We were a little worried last night," Riordan said. "We heard Mom weep but all seems to be fine now, looking at you two. Means I don't have to walk around campus looking like I'd lost my lunch, and my friends - all in their twenties, mind you - asking whether my mother saw to it that I eat at all." 

"Yes, me too," Rebecca added. "I'm glad, Mom. Morning, Papa! You both look free and relieved. Does a lot of crying bring a lot of relief?" she asked. 

"Yes, dear." 

To which Riordan simply rolled his eyes and Chakotay burst out laughing. I was too surprised to see him laugh so hard, but hugged Rebecca again to me.  

"Oh, hear ye! The man laughs! Thank goodness!" 

Riordan's commbadge beeped that moment. 

"Paris to Janeway!" 

"R.K. Janeway here, what do you want, O.M. Paris?" 

"You be at the transport point in five minutes or Miral is going to blow a - a gasket." 

"We'll be there. Tell Miral she's - " 

"Paris out!" 

"Well, we have to be off, good parents. See you Sunday!" 

"Sunday?" I asked, Chakotay's hand under the blanket beginning to roam while the two teenagers were still in the room. 

"We'll be at Grandma and Grandpa Adam in Paris. Didn't we tell you?" 

"Go!" 

After more energetic hugging and kissing, Rebecca and Riordan left to the transports where Miral waited in a shuttle to take all of them off to their various schools, Academy and university. Shuttle "pooling" worked! 

********

After the children left, Chakotay stared at me. We sat up in bed. My hand slid into his. A smiled formed, deepening the creases that lined his cheeks. A sudden warmth filled me. A lifetime ago, it seemed, my heart flipped whenever Chakotay smiled, accentuating his dimpled cheeks. His eyes used to narrow from the sheer merriment at something humorous that had happened. 

His eyes held nothing but trust in me. I hugged him fiercely. He would wait for when I was ready to talk. It was like that between us, always. Even on Voyager, when Seska deceived him so heinously, he'd known how disappointed I was in his actions. But I'd waited for him to speak then, in quiet moments when all had calmed down. Other times he'd waited for me, especially when we crash-landed on a planet and he'd thought that I'd died. It was a tormenting period for me, but on Lake George -  beautiful, peaceful Lake George, my confessions had issued haltingly from my lips. 

I knew that the time was not yet ripe, but it would be soon. 

"I love you, Kathryn," Chakotay murmured hoarsely as he began another sultry dance of passion. He felt so strong, my body so eager to receive him. This time we made love dreamily, simply enjoying light kisses, entwined legs, sheets crumpled in the aftermath. Later we headed to the bathroom, showered, dressed and sat down in the main kitchen for breakfast. 

Chakotay was quiet and I wondered what he was thinking. 

"I still have two sessions to do at the university," I said hesitantly, as I sipped my tea. "You're welcome to come along." 

Chakotay's hand stilled mid-air before he put his cup slowly down. I could only imagine what went on in his mind. He would never press me for any explanations; like a gentleman he'd simply wait until I was ready to share those heart-breaking moments with him. I thought again of David who seemed so far away and I wondered suddenly whether what had happened between us was an aberration on my part, whether I'd dreamed it or whether he'd be happy on Melvech with his family. I fully understood his desire to make a clean break. 

I admitted ruefully that he did make me laugh without feeling guilty, his own laughter so infectious that it rubbed off on me. I'd been stuck in a groove of cheerlessness and David changed that. 

"Kathryn…" 

"Sorry." 

"Darling, don't be," he said. "Something happened on Darayton II and I know that when the time is right you will share those things with me. Yes, I'd love to accompany you and make old Owen Paris happy. He has been worried about us, you know that. But I'd love to visit Darayton's Graves of the Ancients, an old burial ground that is part of their cultural and heritage sites." 

I smiled, feeling giddy with happiness, seeing how he too looked so liberated, how he trusted me. I was privileged to be the recipient of that trust. We had another two weeks before continuing the master classes. Until then I would be only too happy to begin to re-sculpt my world, one that included our sorrow and the joy of being alive, being loved by a man who never asked to be hurt or be afraid that I'd leave him and to re-establish the history of us which was almost, almost destroyed. 

Later we stood in front of the closed door, like we had promised ourselves. We'd agreed it was time to cross a bridge. Since Mallory's death we had never entered her room. When it had to be aired, I'd asked Phoebe or my mother to perform the light cleaning and dusting, careful not to disturb the furniture, her soft toys, her books on the shelf she'd insisted Chakotay build for her. She loved books and Chakotay and I had taken turns to read to her at night. She'd sit up in bed, scrubbed clean after her bath, her perfectly cut bangs framing her forehead and gaze at us with her large, expressive eyes. 

Always, we'd try to go inside and always, the reality of her passing, our constant sorrow, the memories, not so much the good ones but of the tragedy, kept us from entering her domain. Her name was on the door in embossed letters which Chakotay had carved, and beneath it, a pterodactyl bone. It was just so painful to go inside, look at all the things that she loved, her personality evident in the choice of her books, her toys, her hobbies, her clothes, shoes, the clips she used for her hair. All those familiar things which intensified our pain. It was just so hard! 

My heart was pounding. As I glanced at Chakotay, I realised that he too, seemed to be hesitant, nervous, but a strange new courage overshadowed those feelings. 

"Ready?" he asked, my hand held firmly in his. 

"Ready." 

He opened the door slowly and we stepped cautiously inside. Our emotions had been raw for too long. Mallory's death had rocked our foundations. Centuries of stories abounded of parents who testified that they never got over the death of a child, especially in such a tragic way as our little girl. It was no one's fault really and Chakotay had nearly died trying to save Mallory's life. 

So we stood inside her room. Painted white with curtains and quilt in matching childish pink. On a pillow perched a teddy bear Chakotay had bought when Mallory was three years old. Her name was embroidered on the delicate fabric of her pillowcase. I gripped Chakotay's hand tighter in mine, too scared to let go of him, needing his strength to sustain me too. A silent sob rose in my throat as I looked around me, tears never far from my eyes. 

A small desk with a Mickey Mouse lamp stood to one side against a wall. The bookcase which was lined with books that were well thumbed - they had belonged first to Riordan then Rebecca - took pride of place. But there were also books of Mallory's own choice. Always interested in animals, it was no surprise that titles of " _My little dragon book_ ", " _The dinosaur encyclopaedia for children_ " stood out. 

_Mama, I want my whole wall full of books!_

_I want to know everything there is to know!_  

I could hear her voice, so clear even now. 

 _I want to draw things and study fossils and dig for dinosaur bones and study old civi-civilizations, and travel to other worlds and dig for bones there, just like Papa…_  

 _"That's my girl,"_ Chakotay's voice travelled from the past. _"You don't want to attend the Academy?"_  

_Rio and Becks are okay to go. I like other things, just like in my books on old Earth._

Only Mallory called them Rio and Becks… 

 _I'm glad, honey. You are your own person and you know we don't push you to do what you don't really want,"_ I heard myself saying at the time _._  

 _"I know, Mommy. I love you, Mommy. You too, Papa."_  

I pictured Mallory sitting on her bed, like a possessive mother holding her toy targ to her, looking at us with Chakotay's soulful, big eyes. I glanced at Chakotay, noticing his unnatural pallor. I squeezed his hand, his eyes closing as memories swamped us both. 

Very long we stood there, staring at the bed on which little Mallory had slept, where she had good dreams and sometimes nightmares, where Chakotay sat with her as she reclined against him, telling her the old legends which he'd told to Riordan and Rebecca. Like her brother and sister, she had been just as captivated by Chakotay's voice which had become a little gravelly over the years, and by the richness of the stories he'd told. 

It was the first time we'd entered Mallory's room. Even this had me wondering whether a man with liquid brown eyes and laugh lines hadn't been the impetus for this new courage which coursed through us with an invigorating rush. We were not afraid anymore! The room breathed Mallory, and I could have sworn that I even heard her childish voice carried on the air, like soft whispers. I felt an immense sense of peace, entirely convinced that she was telling us she was okay. I glanced briefly at Chakotay. His face was alive with wonder. I knew he was experiencing the same. 

"Chakotay…" I whispered, pointing to a PADD on the bed stand. We knew that it didn't belong to Mallory. 

"I see it," he responded, letting go of my hand to take the PADD. He frowned when he switched it on. "A message for us," he said. "Very strange. It is not from Mallory…" 

"Read it, please," I asked as we both sat down on the bed. 

 _"Mom and Dad,"_ Chakotay began, then he looked quizzically at me before turning to the text again _._

_"We hope you don't mind us being in Mallory's room. We understand that you never desired anyone to enter after she passed away, even if you never indicated in so many words. Except of course Grandma and Aunt Phoebe who kept it clean and dust-free. You made it appear sacrilege to step into her room. We don't blame you at all! In the beginning Becks and I too had been hesitant to linger in Mallory's room, for it held just as many good memories for us. We believe and understand the tragedy that hit not only you as parents but us as siblings that you didn't have the heart or the courage to be in the room or even disturb a painting on the wall. It was extremely painful, we know! We used to come in here just to breathe her presence and I swear by the spirits that we could hear her speaking to us._

_She was our little sister and we loved her as much as you loved her. But, see, maybe you didn't play with Mally as often as we did as kids. And we can tell you right now how, although she was interested in dead things like dinosaur bones and ancient civilisations, through her we understood she was one for the living ages. She might not have said it in eloquent ways for she was still very young, a slip of a little girl. Her lust for life clearly indicated to us that even now that she is no longer with us, that we exist in the realm of the living, that we should continue to embrace life, even if it is without her._

_She told me and Becks once that a dinosaur bone she found had whispered to her. At the time we thought it better not to refute her statement, for as young as she was, she was amazingly astute and very spiritual, like you, Dad. We didn't laugh at her, instead we played along and asked her what the bones said. They told her that even though they were only bones, she would always remember them, that they might be gone, but never forgotten._

_Rebecca and I understood that, Mom, Dad. We so much hoped that you would come to realise that too. We do understand that a tragedy such as losing a child can bear heavily on the surviving parents, for didn't a king once say that a parent shouldn't have to outlive his children? But it was Mallory who taught us that we can still hear her voice, listen to her singing, see her in our mind's eyes, all without technology to support those things. It adds so much power to remember her as that constantly laughing little girl, our sister._

_We have often come into this room just to sit and inhale her as if she were right here with us and it has given us so much hope and strength to carry on. So we do hope that you two will do the same one day. Don't take too long, okay? Mallory likes to talk, as you know._

_Love_

_Riordan and Rebecca_

By the time Chakotay had finished reading the letter, tears were streaming down his cheeks. He dropped the PADD on the bed, looking so lost. I hugged him fiercely for long, long moments. Always we had been so afraid of being in this room, too afraid of her ghost, of memories that tripped us up so hard that we knew not how to carry on. I held his shuddering frame to me and waited until the trembling finally ceased. 

Chakotay carried a heavy burden of guilt, intensified by the fact that Mallory had been buried by the time he emerged from his coma. He had been mad for days after that. Our journey since then had been fraught with anger, sadness, pain, considering at our own peril all the "ifs" that accompanied the father-daughter excursion that fateful weekend. Every home had its cross to bear, even ours. 

I framed my husband's face in my hands, wiping away the moist with my thumb. 

"I loved her so much, Kathryn. So much!" 

"You will see her again, I'm sure of that." 

"I haven't at all in my vision quests. Just like those first years after my father died. Maybe my heart wasn't right. Maybe I was too angry with myself for letting it happen." 

"Being here, having crossed an important bridge, it will happen. Don't worry, honey. Riordan and Rebecca are wiser than we've given them credit. They have shown us the way and I think we are ready to forge ahead and meet our little girl all over again." 

We glanced about us in the room, inhaled the faint smell of baby oils and powders of which she had been so fond. 

"Do you remember how she always banged on our bedroom door at unholy hours?" I asked him. 

"Just to jump on the bed and worm under the blankets to lie between us." 

"Then she'd ask us whether you had another legend to tell her. She loved those stories!" 

"And how she used to say 'I love you, Mommy. I love you, Papa' before planting moist kisses on our cheeks." 

"And do you remember how she went missing on the property without her commbadge and only the barking of Hamish alerted us to her whereabouts?" 

"She lifted the corner of her mouth just like her mommy, sounding outraged when she said, 'I was never lost'!" 

"Ah, she was our little ray of sunshine…" 

"I feel her presence here, you know?" 

"See? It is beginning," I told him. 

*****************

 END CHAPTER 7

 


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Although I'd been so bold to invite Chakotay along on my next two sessions on Darayton II, I was gripped by the old apprehension at being in a place where I'd met David, being afraid of seeing him again or memories of the times we shared swamping me, visiting places that held special significance. But David was gone, permanently! A discreet search ensured that I knew he was on Melvech, deep in the Gamma Quadrant, yet at times I imagined he was lurking somewhere to unsettle me again. 

Chakotay had been equally bold in agreeing to come along, even though I'd not told him yet what had ailed me in the last months. But as long as I've known him, he was never lost, reminding me so much of Mallory who used to go off, demanding why we were so worried, she wasn't gone. Chakotay could always find something of interest in a world he hadn't visited before. This time it was the heritage sites of the Ancients of Darayton, his  particular domain of expertise and interest being the Graves of the Ancients. Whenever we planned a vacation, he was usually the one who researched places we could visit or experience - outdoor activities, mountain hiking trails which most homeworlds in the Federation plotted for visitors seeking adventure, sailing... 

A month had passed since that day David left and I almost lost Chakotay. It was good being a family again after the meltdown I had that night when Chakotay consoled me, asking nothing in return. I remember David fondly these days, without the searing pain in my bosom of the imagined love I felt. It was in reality a very brief encounter. He made me laugh without feeling guilty or having my momentary joy spoiled by smiling. I'd been stiff, cold inside. It wasn't really Chakotay's fault, but mostly a compendium of circumstances that led to what we had become as a couple. David was somewhere with his wife and children. Sometimes I still felt that stab of embarrassment slicing through me and I'd gasp sharply in mortification. Dear Chakotay would look at me intently, frown and indicate that he understood my discomfiture but he still remained patient that I'd share things with him. He'd grasp my hand in his, give it a gentle squeeze and I'd become centred again, relief and peace settling in me. 

Trying to avoid memories of him, I didn’t want to repose on the same bench David and I had always used. He was the past, one I wanted to forget. Chakotay was my present and my future. So I found another bench near the craft market, one with large bright orange fronds from a tree just behind it. Chakotay enjoyed sitting there during our quiet moments. He'd hold my hand in his and our rings would gleam in the rays of light filtering through the umbrella fronds. He'd smile, that sweet, aching smile that made me love him all over again and I'd rest my head against his shoulder. 

"I like it here, much like our great gardens we have on Earth." His voice caressed me! 

"From here I can see the crowds moving about the market. Seems no one leaves without at least purchasing something. They do have some excellent craftsmen and women." 

"I got something for you, honey," Chakotay said, his eyes alive and a smile transforming his face. My heart almost burst! 

"When did you do that? Definitely not today, we've been together all the time and - ah, yesterday! " 

"Took a quick tour of the market after you left for the university. We're leaving in a few hours so I wanted to wait until now to give this to you. In any case I could only collect it today," he admitted as he held the amulet so that its chain fell over the back of his hand. 

"Oh…oh! How exquisite!" I couldn't help exclaiming as I took the amulet from him with the greatest care. The chain and outer rim was the white gold of Darayton, mined in their southern hemisphere mountains. The pendant was inlaid with a shiny black ore unknown to me. In the centre was the face of a child that gleamed in three dimensional brilliance. Every time I moved the pendant, the face seemed to do a different thing - smile, laugh, facing left or right, as if it were alive. A familiar face, a smiling, happy, familiar face. 

Something broke in me. 

"C-Chakotay?" I stammered as my eyes began to burn from unshed tears. "It's - it's Mallory. She's…beautiful! But how - ? 

"I found this jeweller who had completed the pendant shells and only had to craft the centre with whatever picture the client had. I brought a few of Mallory along to see if some brilliant crafter could do it for me. I collected it today while you were at another stall fitting on a hat, or something." 

I couldn't speak as Chakotay gently placed the amulet round my neck and hugged me fiercely. Images of sitting on a similar bench with David flew into the mists. I was in my husband's arms and savoured the feel of them around me. Life felt suddenly good, with our darling little girl lying against my bosom! 

Our intimate life improved from that first night after returning from Darayton and David's final goodbye. We'd gone to see the EMH on the Monday, Chakotay courageous enough that I be part of the process during the consultation. The EMH had listened with great care, nodding sagely with everything Chakotay explained. 

"You were right, Admiral Chakotay, that the situation would correct itself with time, given the severity of your injuries. I did advise you to see me yearly, which you neglected last year. You only delayed your own progress, and that's why it took longer than you expected." 

The night we made love proved beyond doubt that Chakotay had healed. 

Chakotay nodded. "Circumstances have changed recently," he said, his voice strong and not so belligerent as those first months when he'd refused to see a doctor. I gave an inward chuckle as I thought how strongly Chakotay filled me, how I welcomed him inside me, what a miracle that was. Changed circumstances had been that very night when I'd been completely overwrought by my infidelity. 

"I am glad, Admiral," the EMH responded. "It's perfectly normal to have a healthy sex life at your age. But feel free to see me should you experience any trouble again." 

The past two weeks had been good. We made love, not as often as we both liked, but it was good, very good. Perhaps even better because there was always so much anticipation in waiting a week or so! 

Sometimes I caught Chakotay regarding me almost absently, as though deep in thought, as if he were burning to ask me what had happened to me, why I journeyed so far away from him and returned with bleak eyes and a broken heart. Did I have the nerve to speak about those times, about contemplating succumbing to an attraction which was something I’d never ever considered. Those odd moments when images of David still managed to unsettle me, caused me little cries of distress even as I now acknowledged that Chakotay remained the love of my life. My marriage, as I'd told David, was a happy one. Our children were thriving, especially after we told them that we spent time in Mallory's room and read their message to us. Their joy had been boundless. I wouldn't change that for anything. 

Yet, to articulate my thoughts, voice my agonies of David leaving, tell aloud of everything that had happened to me was an idea aborted the minute it was born. Chakotay sensed it. I didn't want to hurt him. Every time I caught him staring at me, I wanted to blurt the whole sordid story. Then inevitably a block, something I couldn't quite explain, caused the impediment. Perhaps it was my cowardly heart! I know there are couples out there who have open marriages, who indulge in the occasional affair. Some might think that a man trying to kiss me is nothing, why not enjoy it? I had been so taken with David, drawn to his charm, yet deep inside I recoiled at the thought. 

It might not have been a full blown sexual affair, but in my mind I believed myself to have been unfaithful. It was still very difficult to confess. 

"Hey…" 

I returned to the present as if in a dream, a journey through which I'd once again struggled. I gave a low, sheepish little chuckle. 

"Sorry. I was miles away. We have to go, don't you think?" I suggested.

"Definitely. Can't wait to get home, my love." 

"What are we waiting for?" 

I was overcome with a strange sense of déjà vu. I'd used the words before or someone else had. There were two things people said about déjà vu - one was that if you imagined you experienced something before, you probably had. The other was to put it from your mind instantly or you'd punish yourself emotionally just trying to figure out where you heard it. I chose the latter whether it happened or not. Chakotay's words were pure, unaffected by any previous imagining. 

We headed for the Koreda Transport Station to board a shuttle that would take us to rendezvous with the USS Clarion. Chakotay's arm was around my waist and as we sauntered along the market, Chakotay bent down from time to time to plant a kiss in my hair. 

"I love you, Kathryn…" he murmured. 

I simply grasped him tighter to me, the idea of sharing my experiences with him becoming slowly more desired, even necessary, even though my heart pounded. 

*************

I felt it was time to tell Chakotay of David. It was hard just thinking about revealing everything to him. I'd been so brave relating the entire story in my mind, a soundless conversation in which I didn't withhold a single thing, even responding to David's rough kissing. But I realised that Chakotay did not deserve this treatment. He deserved everything good, for was he not as I always asserted, a good man, one who was kind and just and compassionate, who would understand? 

So it was that we walked the farm two weeks later, after my final sojourn on Darayton . I was happy that it was the last of my lectures. Next year a different Academy professor might be prevailed upon to teach these important master classes. 

It was a cool Friday morning. Riordan had gone off on an excursion with the university to Jupiter Station to shadow the work done by Doctor Zimmerman and Rebecca would leave for Paris straight after school for the weekend to spend time with Phoebe's boys and her grandmother.

Chakotay had been pensive all morning. I had an idea what was troubling him. We walked slowly downstream, his arm comfortably around my shoulder. He sighed lightly and I glanced up at him, yet his face revealed nothing. He was an admiral and dealt with more abrasive colleagues during Starfleet  Command's political maneuverings than I had to deal with. Life in the Maquis and on Voyager was the ideal preparation to maintain a poker face during negotiations and Chakotay had developed his to a fine art. 

But he was my husband whom I've known for more than twenty years. Even a slight shift in his equilibrium was noticeable to me. Today he seemed more preoccupied than before. Was it because he sensed that I was still haunted by what he called my journey, that I occasionally fell into silence when he was talking to me? 

It has been more than a month since David exited from my life, to rebuild his own on a new homeworld. I was slowly re-sculpting mine, chipping away for the carving to take shape. Almost there…. 

"You're quiet, Chakotay…" 

"Just thinking. Sorry." 

"Look, we're almost by the tree," I said, attempting to inject a change of scenery, a different subject, anything that he didn't look so gloomy. I knew what he was thinking but also knew that I'd relieve him of his suffering very, very soon. Perhaps standing by a grave was the impetus I needed to tell him all that weighed so heavily on me. 

We’d both brought along small posies - Chakotay selected a bouquet of peace roses and I chose peonies and tulips. We reached the giant poplar. It rose like a Colossus above the surrounding landscape of trees and shrubs and couldn't be missed if one stood in a clearing across the stream from the main homestead. Even Chakotay appeared dwarfed by the tree. Mallory's grave reminded us of how short life can be, that whatever we think about providence and destiny, some Power beyond our understanding always decides differently. 

We'd prepared a burial plot near the tree about two hundred metres from where the stream meandered into the distance flowing through neighbouring farms. Mallory's ashes lie here. In time members of the family would join her. A marble slab covered the earth into which we lowered her coffin. Her headstone was simple. It recorded her names and last name, a photograph embedded in the marble and her date of birth and death.  

I remembered our extreme trauma, Chakotay lying critically injured, near dying in a coma. My mother and stepfather, Phoebe and Logan had been by my side, taking care of Riordan and Rebecca and helping with funeral arrangements. I had been incoherent with grief those first critical two days. 

Conversations drifted to me from those terrifying days… 

"Kathryn, honey, we need to know about a funeral - " 

"Where shall we bury her?" 

The broken body of Mallory, whose face had remained miraculously unscathed, because Chakotay had lain over her, doomed before my crazed eyes. She was so little, her body crushed under rocks, it was impossible to imagine a healthy child. Impossible! I pictured her in a little satin lined white coffin slowly sinking into the ground. 

"I want her buried at home, Mom." 

"Okay, Kathryn. What about a memorial service?" 

How? My agony was complete. How could we hold a service when Chakotay lay dying, not knowing we were about to continue with arrangements without him?. 

"Yes," I'd told Phoebe, unable to stop weeping, clutching Riordan and Rebecca close to me. They were inconsolable and it took everything to console them too. 

"Where at home do you want her laid to rest, Kathryn?" 

I'd looked at my mother, yet unable to see her through the curtain of my tears. 

My response to a burial site was issued stutteringly from me as the memory of a lost conversation had broken through my grief. Under the giant poplar on our farm, I told them. 

Chakotay had gone to hell and back when I had to tell him that Mallory had died, that we'd held a service for her already. He'd sat up and began screaming, "When? When?" in a voice that sounded like a rusty grate. He'd been so ill still. 

"Two weeks ago, Chakotay…" 

Somewhere in my own demented mind, the _Kyrie_ from Mozart's Mass in C rose thinly into my consciousness. 

_Kyrie eleison.  
Christe eleison.   
Kyrie eleison._

_Lord, have mercy…_

Hardly able to walk properly, Chakotay had demanded to be taken to Indiana, to see where we laid our little girl to rest. We'd taken him there, and he had howled like a wolf in great pain, scratching at the marble stone so that his nails bled. For weeks and months our tears were in our hearts; at night Chakotay had walked to the grave and even from that distance we could hear his howling. Riordan and Rebecca had been so afraid, until one night Riordan, only eleven years old at the time, stumbled through the dark copses along the river to the grave by the poplar and brought his demented father home. 

Nothing was the same after that. Nothing. 

Now the sun broke through the clouds and its rays caressed the grave. 

We placed our flowers on the marble slab. I stayed on my knees, imagining I could hear Mallory. Chakotay's lips moved in silent supplication. We stayed there a long time. Then, as if a storm began brewing inside me, I stood up and felt spirals churning inside me. I gazed at Chakotay who also stood up, his eyes on Mallory's picture. Chakotay, such a strong man, felled by the death of a beloved child. 

Inside me the churning continued unabated. Oh, God! What terrible hurricane battered my defences so? I wrung my hands together, much like I had that night I returned from Darayton and David said goodbye. My eyes began filling with tears and I knew not how to prevent the dam from bursting. In profile Chakotay appeared raw, vulnerable, like I have not seen him in a very, very long time and it hurt so much to see him like that. 

Then he glanced at me with that sad, raw face that pained me so. My mouth began moving, expelling what had been locked in my head for months. 

"His name is David Cannon," I blurted. "He is a senior medical officer who did rotation duty at Darayton City's largest hospital. He is married, Chakotay, to a half-Vulcan, half-human woman. They have three children." 

"I suspected it was someone you met," Chakotay said softly, taking my hand as we stood by the grave, staring into the distance. "What - what happened, Kathryn, that you journeyed so far from us, from me?" 

"He was friendly, always smiled. His face had permanent laugh lines, you know?" 

And the words began to tumble from my lips, like a storm lashing the shores with no respite. Chakotay waited patiently for me to continue, squeezing my hand, wanting to still the raging storm in me. 

"He was always so sociable, with an open, friendly regard. The first time I met him, he removed an eyelash from my eye. Said he was a doctor and within seconds removed the offending hair right there in the cafeteria of the Koreda Transport Station." 

"You fell for him," Chakotay stated softly, the admission hurting him as much as it hurt me. 

I nodded. "Not immediately, you know? Only two weeks later when we met in the craft market. We greeted; he was very pleasant and remembered taking a hair from my eye. I was alone on Darayton, didn't really know anyone. His was a familiar face, even after just one meeting. From there - " 

Chakotay's face looked wounded and I wanted to stop, to kiss away his pain. But my story was not finished and I needed courage. I swallowed at the painful lump in my throat, but pushed on. 

"From there we were inseparable. Here at home, we had sunk into a kind of despair, unable to laugh or be happy. We were polite, mostly, you know? Then this stranger came along. My spirits seemed to lift in his presence. It was hypnotic, I suppose. The mornings after my lectures, I could not wait to meet him, Chakotay. We visited museums, the markets, walked the hills and sailed a boat down the river. I laughed, Chakotay, a lot! 

"We'd both agreed not to speak too much about our families, our commitments, although he knows you are an admiral and we have two children. I never told him about Mallory. I'd wanted to keep that part of our lives private, our grief was our own. That way we could pretend to be a couple with no attachments at home." 

I stole a glance at Chakotay. It rammed home to me that there was nothing more painful or shattering than watching someone's wounds in profile - the glint of tears, the contracting of muscles, the clenching of the jaw… It was far more devastating than standing face to face with a person. My heart cried out for my husband, but I promised I'd be brave, even if it meant having to hurt him more, if only briefly. Then his mouth moved… 

"There were times, Kathryn," Chakotay began slowly, "that I sensed you were drifting from me and it made me wonder whether you had met someone. I remembered Owen Paris telling you to go and have fun as well as teach and I suddenly felt anger, though I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you not to go. Every time you came home, I became more and more aware that something had happened and fearful that you would leave me. I cannot tell you how afraid I was! Even more afraid to ask what it was that ailed you. You seemed lightyears away, my love. I prayed that you would find your way back to us. You did, Kathryn, but it was an unbearable journey. What made you return?" 

"We - "  I closed my eyes, trying to blank out the caressing on the umbrella bench, the kissing in the boat. 

"What, Kathryn…?" 

I didn't bother wiping my tears away, frowning heavily as I tried to frame my next words, gripping his hand tighter. I looked at our locked hands, saw how his knuckles were white from the pressure. 

"I wanted him and didn't want him. I couldn't understand my own struggle to define my feelings. When he kissed me, I recoiled, thinking how I was breaking faith with you. I felt so starved, my body was so unused to a passionate caress. You know what I mean, my love. I wanted to be swept along and yet tried hard to fight the attraction. I'm so sorry, Chakotay, so very sorry. I tried to stop and at times, my common sense, my pride in being a happily married woman, my moral values were conquered by my desire to be touched, to feel again." 

"Why did you stop? For I sensed there was something that must have happened. I am overjoyed, Kathryn, that you are with me again, even though I admit to feeling jealous that another man touched you. I am hurt, I can tell you that. You are my past, my present and my future, for nothing in this universe is too big, too unattainable to give you. My heart is tied to yours forever. I am filled with joy and honour that you are standing here beside me, committed to our marriage. But something made you stop - " 

"I realised we couldn't continue, even though my heart, God help me, I wanted to throw everything away. Then one day - " Another heavy pause as I gathered my courage to push on again. "One day our boat capsized when a flock of Darayton geese swooped down on us. David has a permanent apartment in the First City, so we went there to dry out. I'd felt uneasy going with him to his flat and even told him so, always thinking that I was being unfaithful to you, that I wanted to come home. But my heart betrayed my head, Chakotay. God! I'm so sorry! David kissed me. I tried to fight him off and in the process his hands roamed down my body. 

"We were surprised by his daughter who'd entered the flat quietly and saw what we were doing. I don't know how long she stood there. I fled the place. I was so embarrassed! I had no idea that David had followed me. I told him later that it was over. I couldn't bear the hurt and humiliation. I couldn't bear the censure I saw in his daughter's eyes. I didn't want to hear any explanations and left before he could even try. I knew then that we couldn't in all creation continue with a clandestine liaison without imagining it was okay, that it was alright, that it was _right._ It wasn't! It wasn't ever right! He begged to see me two weeks later to say goodbye - " 

I thought of that last day, feeling rotten with David's hand resting on mine, then the squeeze of his hand on my shoulder, the last goodbye in that touch. I had wanted to run after that flitter and demand he wave to me. It wasn't to be. I had come home and looked at Chakotay, wondering if he would ever forgive me if I told him then. Now a month later, away from the pull that was David, away from the temptation to give in to him, it was Chakotay whose presence, kindness, whose _loving_ , whose grace re-established themselves. I am the recipient of his grace and could not ever  trample on my husband's goodness again. I would love him and honour our bond for as long as I live. What happened was brief, was madness, but it was over. 

I believed the world I had come home to was a sculpture nearing completion, a storm almost subsided. 

"Hey…" 

"It was to tell me he was relocating permanently to Melvech in the Gamma Quadrant to work there, taking his family with him." 

This time I moved so that I could face Chakotay. The clouds seemed to have dissipated there, the raw, pinched, vulnerable look almost gone. 

"It surprised me and at the same time I felt relieved, you know, even though I told him it was over between us, that I never wanted to see him again, that common sense at last prevailed. It was as though I woke from a deep and dark dream that imprisoned me in swathes of black mists. What happened there, that wasn't me. I was not true to _us_ , not loyal to you and I wanted to be. I wanted to make my marriage good again, as best I could, Chakotay. I didn't ever think it could happen to me. I wanted to come home and be your wife, be happy with you and the children, be normal again and wash all the deception from my body." 

Chakotay smiled for the first time, the long furrows in his cheeks, his silver hair with its errant strand that always fell over his forehead just above his tattoo so achingly, wonderfully dear to me. My heart wanted to burst with sudden pride that our history continued to be written. I gripped his hand tighter. Then his smile vanished and it scared me a moment. Something still weighed heavily on his mind and I couldn't figure what it was. Didn't I explain everything to him? My eyes began filling with tears. 

"What is it, Chakotay?" 

"Did - do you love him, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked quietly. 

My pause gave him more disquiet, it seemed, and I wanted to kiss away his fears, his sorrow, relieve him of all doubt. Suddenly my dread of being open, of telling him everything, even the most damning parts, had left me. I felt free. I released his hand and glanced at Mallory's picture on the headstone. I forced myself to ponder again on David Cannon's entry into my life and everything it really meant. For now, I was convinced that there was a reason he had such an impact on me, that in a way he was a catalyst that forced me and Chakotay to look at what we were allowing to happen in our marriage and our family. 

I turned to face my husband and caressed his cold cheek. Only the absolute truth was good enough now. 

"I thought I did, Chakotay," I replied honestly. It felt a boulder lifted off me, a weight that had been my encumbrance for so long. "It was such a brief encounter, yet I was momentarily thrown for a loop. While he was all charm, deep down I always thought of you, knowing I couldn't allow my heart to grow soft for someone else." 

I was not aware that tears were rolling unchecked down my cheeks; a sob escaped follow by another and another. And Chakotay waited so patiently! "But all the time I was with him," I sobbed, "I was so worried at the same time about you, wondering how hurt you'd be, how I was breaking fealty with you, how you never, ever deserved my inconstancy, how you always remained faithful to your vows to me. We'd been together for so long, and suddenly, meeting another man threw me off balance completely. Our own life here had become a gentle stream in which we just drifted along, it seemed. I was ripe, I guess, for such a thing happening to me. When I think back on what had happened, I realise that I was chasing a fantasy, that I wanted to believe I loved David. I know differently now, that love would have died in pursuance of that fantasy world we'd created. How could it be real when deep down I always thought of you and everything we ever shared?" 

This time I wept and couldn't stop. Chakotay hauled me close and his shirt was wet with my tears. It felt so good being in his arms, to feel his innate strength, the power of his devotion to me, his constant protection. When I calmed again, I stood a little away and gazed at him. 

"I know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love you, Chakotay. I love you with my whole heart, my being, my soul, and all those things that are so irretrievably tied to you, that I cannot live or breathe without. Thinking of you so constantly kept me from pursuing an association that was wrong from the start." 

"Thank you, my beloved," Chakotay said as he pulled me into his arms again. "I thought I'd lost you. That night when you returned from Darayton… You looked distraught, spaced out and I didn't know how to comfort you. You were looking at me the whole time but you didn't see me for the torment you were clearly suffering. I have never felt so unsure of _us_ before, so afraid. If you'd left me, I thought it would have been my punishment for what happened, with Mallory, with me. But, Kathryn, knowing you so well, only one thing kept me from total despair."

"What was that, Chakotay?" I asked, the lightness beginning to soar in me.

"It was hope. There is always hope. You were on a journey of which only you knew the destination and I hoped that your voyage would end here, with me." 

"We had been through too much for me to just throw everything away. I love you, my angry warrior. Now more than ever before." 

The arms that enfolded me and clasped me so protectively to him, just squeezed tighter for a few heady, intense seconds until eventually he released me. Relief swamped me. It was over. Finally over. Chakotay's face was clear, free of the strain that marked it for so long. Now we could mourn our little girl without feeling the earth opening beneath us; we could laugh, be happy and not feel guilty for experiencing joy. David was the catalyst that shocked us into redefining the protocols for a happy life. 

"Chakotay, it's the weekend. We're both free. Could we go somewhere, just the two of us?" 

"How about the beach house on Naxos Island in the Aegean? The kids have sorted themselves out. They ordered us to enjoy ourselves. What do you think?" 

"Inky blue ocean, floating endlessly, reading, walking, visiting the craft market - " 

"And making love!" 

Then Chakotay laughed. What a wonderful sound! 

************

 END CHAPTER 8

 


	9. PROLOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the PROLOGUE.

* * *

 

The setting surprised me as I entered. There was no forest clearing, no surrounding trees soaked in the tropical afternoon rain, or the soft rustling of leaves or a large tree trunk in the centre that could be used for seating. That was what I'd come to expect when I stepped into the realm of my quest. The lush green, the leafy forest floor dappled by the rays of the sun was absent.  

I frowned. Was I in the right place to seek her whom I have not seen in years? 

The landscape was desert-like, dry, with chaparral dotting the terrain in the immediate vicinity. Beyond the thick shrubs the untamed land morphed into rocky terrain and mesas as far as the eye could see. Here and there organ cacti rose in the distance, like beacons guiding lone travellers, with the unforgiving sun beating down on them. 

_I asked the spirits to guide me to her…  I did not expect this._

After several minutes I considered turning back, my disappointment acute. I opened my eyes and lifted  my hand off the akoonah. But the vibration persisted, keeping my hand imprisoned and I fell deeper and deeper into my dream-state, everything known to me fading to deep shadow. I wanted to weep. What is urging me to stay in this landscape? 

_"Are you going to open your eyes, Papa?"_

My eyes flew open. Mallory. Her childish voice was instantly recognisable. 

She stood near a chaparral bush, her presence sudden, as if she'd just walked from behind the brush and quietly surveyed the world about her. 

Mallory, as beautiful as I remembered her - naturally red lips, dark eyes and pitch black hair with straight bangs. Her dimples were fresh as they could only look on the cheeks of a child, not the long furrows that came with age. She wore her favourite soft-leathered climbing boots dubbed by Tom Paris as "funky". She loved those boots, loved hiking and climbing. In one hand she carried her helmet and in the other…

I bent down to look her in the eyes.

 "Hello, Mallory. I am overjoyed to see you, my little angel." 

_"Did Rio and Becks tell you not to worry so much?"_

"They did, little one. What is that in your hand?" 

_"A pterodactyl bone, Papa. Grandpa Kolopak helped me dig for it."_

"You have seen Grandpa Kolopak?" 

 _"Oh, yes, and Grandpa Edward."_  

 Kathryn's late father! 

"I am glad Grandpa Kolopak helped you, honey. That way you won't get lost, right?"

The little girl broke into laughter that filled the afternoon air - like bright tinkling bells, unfettered, painless, free. It was laughter that transformed her face. This was Mallory as we knew her, a happy child with a lust for life! I felt a punch to my gut that left me breathless. What was I expecting? That she'd be unhappy in a realm into which she'd ascended too soon? Mallory moved about the terrain like someone born to it, her footfall secure, confident, her raven hair swishing about her shoulders. Just like I had been on Dorvan, trekking about on my own without Father and mother Hannah knowing, to return only at night-time when everyone had had their dinner. 

So many well-meaning people with sage words of solace had told us to remember Mallory as she was, and not the child who lay at the bottom of a cave wall, whose body was crushed. 

She sauntered closer until she stopped about a metre from me. I could reach out and touch her but didn't. Her eyes were large, almost too big in her face, her gaze upon me unwavering. Spirits, how I loved her! 

"I tried to see you, Mallory, but I couldn't. I wanted to speak with you, to convince  myself that your bones were not broken, that you were alright." 

_"You were very angry, Papa. You hurt a lot too. You can't see me when you are cross or when you hurt too much. That is why you couldn't hear my bones whisper to you. On Mars, in the cave where we fell, I heard Grandpa Kolopak and Grandpa Edward whisper to me. They told me that where they are, they don't hurt too much and they are happy. They told me they would love to have me with them. Grandpa Kolopak also told me that when you are not so angry or afraid anymore, then you will hear me speak on the wind."_

"I know that now, honey. " 

How could I not? When Kathryn returned to me, when we visited Mallory's room, when it didn't hurt so much, when we could speak openly about our daughter, everything changed. Even my anger. 

_"Do you remember how I went walking around the farm and you thought I was lost only I was never lost?"_

I tried to touch her, but I couldn't. It did not disturb me for just feeling her presence so strongly, hearing her voice so clearly, her bones telling me what I needed to hear, was enough. I remember the time when we'd thought she was lost. She was only three or four. We'd been frantic with fear thinking she'd been abducted or fallen into the river, or into a ravine, or chased into a foxhole, although we didn't have foxes dwelling in that region. When we'd found her near the border of the farm, close by the river, she'd looked so unconcerned, asking, "Why were you looking for me?" 

"I remember," I said. "You weren't lost at all." 

Mallory broke into a wondrous smile again, her face transforming into sparkling beauty, alive, so alive! Her energy flowed and filled the air and it touched me. I couldn't but nod and return her smile. 

 _"I am not lost, Papa. I was never lost. I know exactly where I am, where I have been and where I walk every day. Do not be sad, okay? When you are sad, just think of me and you will hear my whispers and I will speak with you and comfort you, just like Grandpa Kolopak taught me. Rio and Becks are not sad anymore, but they hear me speak to them in the dark night when the air is thin and quiet and they long to hear my voice."_  

"Rio and Becks, huh." 

_"Oh, yes, Papa!"_

"I understand now, honey. Thank you for letting me see you. I am not angry anymore…" 

Because of Kathryn. Because of peace. 

 _"I know, Papa. That is why you can see me. You are not angry because I can feel your peace."_  

Mallory proffered the bone, only it was no longer a bone, but transformed into a rose with orange-pink petals, just like the one I had given her mother so many, many years ago on Voyager. I stared at the flower in my hand, mystified at its portent. 

_"When you come again, will you bring Mommy?"_

"Certainly, my angel!" 

 _"Bye, Papa!"_  

"Wait!" 

But she was gone, as silently as she appeared, she was gone. And in the wake of the thin, quiet air I could hear her bones whisper to me, that I not be afraid. 

*** 

I emerged from my vision quest, almost surprised to find myself sitting on the floor of our bedroom, in front of the window-viewscreen. I awakened from a dream, it seemed, disoriented for a few moments. A new energy flowed through me, lifting and renewing my spirits. For the first time in three years, I was able to speak with our daughter. Her face had been hidden from me, her voice still, her whispers silent. 

It had left me disheartened for so long that I recoiled from touching my medicine bundle when, plucking up the nerve to open my wardrobe, that emotion fled. Life changed when Mallory died, when my own injuries were so severe that upon waking from my coma, I was told our daughter had been buried already. No doubt there were those who had suffered similar tragedies in their lives, who would tell us, "We understand how you must feel…"  In those moments you were simply beyond reasoning or accepting anyone's well-meaning message of solace. I was inconsolable, demented with grief that refused to grow scar tissue that would at least dim our heartache. Then the guilt set in, the regret that I had taken our daughter to Mars in the first place, the "ifs" that terrorised us for a long, long time. Finally, the anger set in and against this framework we had to get on with our lives, go about being the best parents we could be to Riordan and Rebecca, force ourselves into a semblance of a happy family. Mallory was the only one who called her brother and sister "Rio" and "Becks", who had greater faith that their sister's spirit dwelled within their hearts. I had to be a father, a husband and a lover who suffered the most embarrassing condition in my post-surgical recovery from the accident. I remained angry, dispirited, despairing. 

I met a man once, long ago, when I sat at the edge of the Grand Canyon to breathe in the might of Earth's magnificent natural geographical wonder. As far as the eye could see, the grandeur of the canyon, with the river flowing far below, mesmerised the lone wanderer and the curious visitor alike. I went there to meditate and he, quite old with a long grey beard and hair, a face creased with age yet exuding a gentility that startled, to do the same. I imagined our spiritual drive differed. That I realised only when he spoke in a trembling voice. 

"I have not spoken to my God in years…" 

"Why is that, old man?" I asked. 

"Too many things, young man. When you get to be my age, you do not do so without the hard knocks, the tragedies, the strikes against you that test your very belief in a higher Power. I have lost so much that I have lost faith. But losing faith also meant losing hope and accepting a lonely life. I did not want to lose hope, you see? Now I speak to Him, even grapple with Him and I understand and accept there are things in life one cannot change, that absorbs the bitterness and leaves in its place hope…  I have peace." 

I remembered that conversation as if it were yesterday. I had despaired, lost hope, feared so much that I'd lost Kathryn too. Now, my father, my grandfather, little Mallory are the sources of my spiritual sanity. A wise old man and a little girl with perfect bangs and a smiling face keep me grounded. 

I gathered my medicine bundle and carefully put it away, thrilled that I could touch it without feeling the air rushing from my lungs from sheer dread. 

Standing by the great window - Kathryn always referred to it as Voyager's main viewscreen - I could see her outside. It was a balmy day for December - no wind, no real icy cold, no snow. Riordan and Rebecca sat with her on a large throw, deep in conversation, hands gesticulating, faces animated, their food half forgotten.  

"We're taking our lunch outside on the lawn," Kathryn had said earlier. "It's a lovely day for once to picnic. Don't you agree, my love?" 

"Of course, I agree. But there's something I have to do first that I haven't done in years. Bear with me?" 

She'd sensed instantly what it was. Then she took my hands in hers, squeezed them gently, kissed me in front of the children and said, "May you see her today, Chakotay." She spoke my name low and hoarse, full of hope. 

So much had happened to us, especially during the last six months. Kathryn had met another man and for a while I had been deathly afraid that I'd lose her. Much had been resolved, the man now a distant memory, just someone she'd met briefly, of whom I should not be jealous. I was resentful, to be very honest. Another man had touched my wife and gave her pleasure where I could not. But in the greater scheme of things, a deep sliver of courage resided in Kathryn that made her turn away from temptation. I am privileged that she could proclaim her love, her devotion and fealty to me, that David Cannon entrenched her love for me even when she believed herself to feel differently. So many times something happened that shocked one to the cruel reality and folly of our actions, enough to back out and make the right decision. Kathryn made a very, very brave decision to return to me. 

I love her, this wonderful, beautiful woman who had once been sent to capture me and turn me over to the authorities, this woman who had once been my superior officer on Voyager, this woman who fought tooth and nail to bring her crew home, this woman who became my best friend, my beacon in a sea of storms. I love her, this magnificent woman who denied herself on Voyager, yet never failed in her devotion to me, who accepted me even when Annika Hansen had created so much discord between us. I love her, this woman who bore me three children, who stilled my lonely, angry heart. 

I love her for her honesty and unbelievable courage in telling me about a man she'd met, who acknowledged her infidelity to me, who returned to me from a very deep, dark, painful journey. 

"You are my destination, Chakotay, always and forever." 

Sighing deeply, I went downstairs and joined my family on the lawn. Three pairs of eyes studied me for a few seconds. 

"Come, Becks," Riordan commanded his sister, "I know a place on the farm you have never seen before." 

"But - but I have seen everything!" 

"Not this one. Come!" 

Riordan pulled his sister up and scooted away with her, and we could hear him, "Don't you get it? It's clear Dad and Mom want to be alone for a while…" 

My eyes never left Kathryn's. She stood up and touched my face, her fingers trailing from my brow to rest against my cheek. There were tears in her eyes, a tiny sob escaping, but her smile was bright. For an aching second, I pictured her as she stood in front of me like that on New Earth, where we'd been so free. 

"You saw her," she said with wonder. 

"I did, Kathryn. It was…magical." 

"Is she lonely?" 

"On the contrary, beloved. She said she was in the good company of her grandfather and his father and your father. They guide her, she told me. She was smiling, like we remembered her always as bright and sparkling. She held a pterodactyl bone in her hand - " 

"She did?" 

"Indeed. Told me Kolopak helped her to dig for it." 

"Oh, Chakotay…" 

"Then she said - "  I found Mallory's final message so difficult! 

"What did she say?" Kathryn asked. 

"We must not be sad. She will never be lost because we can always hear her whisper to us in the quiet night." 

Kathryn threw herself against me, her arms clamped almost painfully around my waist. She felt feverish as she nuzzled her face in my neck. 

"Hey…are you okay?" I asked, dropping kisses into her hair. 

"I love you, Chakotay." 

My eyes filled with tears. 

"You are my beloved, always and forever."

****************

 END

 

 


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